Hotel Dusk: Room 219
by Nothing You Can Prove
Summary: Ex-Detective, Chloe Price, shot her traitorous partner, Rachel Amber, 6 months ago. Rachel fell into the waters, never to be heard of again. Chloe handed in her badge and now works as a saleswoman. Chloe, certain that Rachel survived, has been looking for her to find answers. Her work takes her to Hotel Dusk, where she meets a mysterious girl. Who is this girl?
1. More Than I Bargained For

**Hey guys. Since I finished Making Up For Lost Time, I thought I'd get another story out there. Welcome to Hotel Dusk: Room 219, a Hotel Dusk: Room 215/Life is Strange crossover. So, for those of you who haven't played Hotel Dusk before, I'll give you a basic overview:**

 **It's a puzzle based point and click adventure DS game. You play as ex-detective Kyle Hyde (Chloe). 3 years ago (6 months), he shot his best friend Brian Bradley (Rachel) because he discovered that Bradley was selling confidential police information to a notorious crime syndicate, Nile. Bradley falls into the NYC docks, never to be heard of again. Kyle resigned from the police force and has been working for his dad's friend Ed (Frank) as a salesman. Kyle, certain that Bradley survived, is looking for him to find answers. Why would his friend do this? His work takes him to Hotel Dusk, a small hotel in the middle of nowhere. There, he meets an array of people, including a mysterious girl named Mila (Max). Who is this girl? Why is she here alone? What secrets does she hold? This is only one of the many mysteries of the hotel guests. The original game is set in the 70's, but this story is set in 2013.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Prologue: More Than I Bargained For**

 **Monday April 23** **rd** **2013 - Arcadia Bay – Police Department - 5:07 pm**

I doze at my desk, legs propped up on the table. The high pitched shrill tone of the phone wakes me from my slumber.

"Price! Phone!" someone shouts over to me as I open my bleary eyes.

 _Yeah I can hear that. Damn it, I thought I'd get a chance to grab some shut eye._

"Quit yelling, I've got it," I groan as I take my feet off the desk and grab the phone, instantly silencing its impatient ringing, "This is Price," I yawn as I run my fingers through my faded blue hair. The news I hear takes me by surprise, causing my blue eyes to widen in shock and for my heart to sink.

 _This can't be real… can it?_

I shout out into the otherwise silent room, "What the hell, Rachel?"

* * *

 **Lighthouse**

I run up the path leading to the cliff top, my heart pounding in my ears as I pant heavily. When I reach the top, I see a figure I recognize standing on the cliff edge near the lighthouse… Rachel Amber. Her long blonde hair flows behind her, blown by the gentle warm breeze. Rage pulsates through my veins as I aim my gun at her, the hard metal cold on my fingertips.

 _How could she do this to us… to me?_

"Rachel!" I call out to her, my face crumpled up in anger, "Why?!" she slowly turns around to face me, not saying a word. She almost doesn't look like the Rachel I know, her hazel eyes now cold and emotionless, "Don't move," I order, my grasp on the gun tightening as she takes a small step backwards, smirking at me with a look that screams 'I dare you to pull that trigger.' I falter slightly and in that moment her grin widens. She doesn't think I have it in me to shoot her.

 _She always fucking tests me._

Anger clouds my thought and judgement as I raise my gun and…

 **BANG!**

…I squeeze the trigger.

I watch on as she stumbles backwards to the cliff edge, her face not even registering shock as you would expect. She just looks tired, defeated and… relieved, as if she wanted this to happen. Her hazel eyes close as she falls off the edge almost in slow motion, her hand reaching out with a familiar black and blue bracelet clinging to her wrist, "M-Max…"

* * *

My eyes open abruptly and I jerk upwards to sit up, struggling to catch my breath. Rachel and the Lighthouse have disappeared, now replaced with a bare off-white wall. I scan the area and deduce I am in my room. Cold sweat trickles down my brow as my heart erratically. I swipe at my brow, struggling to get my breathing and beating heart under control. I tiredly rub my face with my hands as the images of Rachel falling from the cliff slowly fade away, "Just a dream," I mumble into my violently shaking hands.

 _If only it were just a dream… Rachel…_

* * *

 **Monday 7** **th** **October 2013 - Los Angeles – The Open Road - 10:16 am**

I drive aimlessly down the street, fiddling with the radio as I go, only receiving static. It's been busted for a while, but I can't afford to fix it.

"Stupid piece of junk," I grumble as I hit it in frustration, immediately recoiling my hand when a sharp pain enters it, "Ouch," I mutter under my breath as I examine my hand. There is a small cut on my finger. I place it in my mouth to try and stem the bleeding.

 _Is it too much to ask to get some music? This truck is just about ready for the scrapheap. I'm surprised it's still running to be honest. It keeps holding on, like me I guess… rundown, but still kicking._

A high-pitched beeping from my pocket fills the silence. I shove my hand in my pocket and take out a pager, seeing that Frank is trying to get hold of me.

 _I guess I'd better stop and ring Frank up before he explodes. I've had to deal with his rage one to many times for my liking. I do push him to the edge. He's not so bad, all bark and no bite._

* * *

 **Nevada - 4:09 pm**

I turn into the nearest gas station and ring Frank before he explodes. I punch in his number and wait around for him to pick up. An angry voice booms into my ear, causing my head to pound, "Price! Why the hell haven't you checked in?"

 _That's the last time I try to drink Kate under the table. She may not look it, but she certainly can hold her liquor. I on the other hand may talk a big game, but I'm such a lightweight. Rachel always used to laugh at me. Now, Rachel was something else when it came to booze. I don't know where she put it all._

I clutch on to my head with my hand in a vain attempt to stop the throbbing, "Get off my crack, Frank and stop yelling. My head feels like it's going to explode."

 _I really need to reconsider how much I drink._

As I rub my temples I hear a deep sigh from the other end of the line, "Figures you'd be hungover. Well, no sympathy here. You should have thought of that before. At least you're not high I guess. You don't sound it anyway."

 _I expected nothing more from Frank. I'm not even surprised. Then again, why should he give a damn about some deadbeat drunk? He puts up with a lot from me. Most people would have canned me way before now. I guess it helps that he was friends with my dad when he was alive. It's my only lifeline._

"Listen, I've got a job for you," he growls, "It's a place called Hotel Dusk. There is a package on its way and the order sheet's inside. Don't lose it. I know what you're like."

 _I'm not going to turn down a chance to make some money. God knows I need it._

"Got it," I confirm as I hang up and enter my beat up truck. I continue my journey down the dusty abandoned dirt road to my destination. This place is a complete wasteland with no trees or greenery to speak of, just scraggly brown bushes dotted around the sandy planes.

 _Where are you sending me, Frank? Maybe he's finally decided he can't put up with anymore of my bullshit and is trying to get me lost in the desert forever. Fuck, I would if I were him._

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a girl standing on the side of the road. She has shoulder length brown hair and is wearing a grey hoodie, blue jeans and black converses with a small bag slung over her shoulder. As I drive past, we briefly make eye contact for a second. Her eyes are a deep vibrant blue and almost seem to be staring into my soul. I glimpse them only for a second before I speed off down the road.

 _Who the hell wanders around in this place? Each to their own I guess._

After a few minute, I finally see my destination, an unassuming brick building with a huge red neon sign above it reading **Hotel Dusk**.

 _This place looks like it's seen better days. Why can't Frank ever send me to any five star hotels? I wonder if he is punishing me for sleeping on the job so much. I wouldn't blame him to be honest._

I sigh as I drive up to the entrance, pulling up just outside the front door. I reach back onto the back seat and grab my battered suitcase, getting out of the truck and standing in front of the building.

 _The name's Chloe Price. It's been six months since I quit the force and left Arcadia Bay. Now I'm a saleswoman for this outfit called Red Crown. On the surface, Red Crown's a door-to-door sales firm dealing in household goods. But Frank, the boss, has himself a little business on the side. How do I put this? He "finds" things that don't always want to be found. Keeps it quiet, too. I lend a hand sometimes. It ain't the greatest gig in town… but hey, anything to pay the bills. Hell, I got nowhere else to be and nothing better to do.'_

I glance up at the flickering red neon sign **Hotel Dusk** and I take a deep breath.

 _You hear me, Rachel? This is it. This is what I'll be doing until I find you…_

I stroll of to the wooden double doors and place my hand on the door handle.

 _What adventures are awaiting me behind this door?_

I could never have guessed what secrets I was to discover and the dangers I was to face in this small rundown hotel in the middle of nowhere. It was more than I bargained for.

* * *

 **So roles so far:**

 **Chloe is Kyle Hyde (ex-detective who shots his friend and fellow cop Brian Bradley. Now working as a salesman). Rachel is Brian Bradley (detective who was on the take and gets shot by Kyle). Kate is Rachel (she is Ed's secretary and Kyle's friend. So many Rachels). Frank is Ed (Kyle's boss and a friend of his dads, who died when Kyle was young). Max is Mila (the girl on the side of the road)**

 **I hope you enjoyed the prologue of the story and I'll see you next time where the story will officially start.**


	2. Time To Bail

**Hey guys. How's it going? Here's the next chapter for you.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Chapter One: Time to Bail**

 **October 7** **th,** **2013 – 5:00 – 5:30 P.M.**

I enter through the doors and make my way over to the front desk, my battered suitcase in hand. The dull artificial lighting flickers slightly, casting the area in a dim light. A beat up couch that has seen better days sits to my left, along with a small wooden coffee table covered in various magazines. The carpet is a checked black and white pattern, mysterious stains lining it. The peeling off-white walls are covered in an array of yellowing posters and scraps of paper.

 _This place could do with a paint job._

As I approach the front desk, I drop the suitcase at my feet and peer over the counter to find no-one there

 _Figures. An empty lobby with no-one home. Why can't my life be easy? Then again, what did I expect from this dump?_

Above the front desk is an orange neon sign reading, **Open**.

 _Huh. Cute sign, pal. I guess this is where I check in. I wonder if Frank's package is here yet._

My eyes fall on a rusted bell sitting atop the desk along with a scribbled on calendar, a phone just to the left and a TV at the end of the counter to the right.

 _It's almost as old as the one I have._

Behind the desk are some pigeon holes for the rooms. I lean over and inspect them to see if there are any packages waiting, but it looks empty.

 _Maybe they haven't put it out yet._

Bored of waiting around, I tap on the bell. The short sharp ring echoes through the empty room, but there is no answer.

 _Chloe Price does not do well getting ignored. Try to ignore me now._

I roll my sleeve up and tap the bell furiously non-stop to get someone's attention. A door behind the desk opens with a loud creak, causing me to smirk victoriously.

 _No-one can ignore me. Believe me, they try, but they always fail._

A 40-something burly moustached man walks out, wearing a white top and gray pants with suspenders. His face crumples up in annoyance at the distraction, "Joyce! Hey, Joyce!" he grumbles, "I told you before. I'm busy checking out the plumbing. I'll get to the other stuff lat-" when he spots me, he pauses his brow furrowed in confusion then he sighs, "You aren't Joyce."

 _Not since I last checked._

"Who's Joyce?" I ask, unable to hold back my curiosity.

The man regards me with a tired glance and grunts, "Joyce is my wife. She does the cleaning and cooking in this place. She works hard to keep this place going. So do I, or at least I try. I think sometimes she forgets I only have one pair of hands."

He offers me a small smile, one that almost doesn't seem to fit his otherwise irritable aura, "Anyway, sorry about that. Name's David Madsen, and I own this joint. Welcome to Hotel Dusk."

 _David Madsen, huh? I have a sneaking suspicion we aren't going to get along. I don't know what it is._

He pulls out a notebook and flicks through the pages, "So, I guess you want a room, do you?"

I nod, "A room. One night."

He fumbles around for a pen, "What kind of room do you want?"

 _The cheaper the better._

"Cheap."

He inspects a notebook and taps his finger on one of the pages, "I've got just the room if you want to save your cash."

 _Sounds like my kind of room._

"Great."

He crosses his arms, "Let me tell you about another room we have available before you make your choice. How would you like to stay in something a little nicer?"

 _I find that hard to believe._

"You have nice rooms?" I question suspiciously.

He narrows his eyes at me, unhappy with my insinuation on the quality of his rooms, "Yeah, we do."

 _Oh look at me, already making friends._

He clears his throat and continues, "You're in sales, right? Door to door? On your feet all day?"

 _Kind of. I can't say I'm the best saleswoman in the world._

"Something like that," I reply.

"You spend all day working your ass off and no-one is biting but the dogs," he comments almost managing to sound sympathetic.

 _I have been almost bitten by a few dogs before. Not fun._

He smiles, but I can see it's forced as his lips twitch at the corners, "So, why don't you give yourself a little treat? One night in a nice room will make a new woman out of you!"

 _I bet he hasn't smiled this much in ages. It doesn't look like this place is full of people. They probably only get one guest every three years. This must be torture for him to have to act all cheery._

He leans in as if he is telling me a well-guarded secret, "I've actually got a suite free tonight. It's a rare opportunity. And I'm feeling generous, so I'll let you have it for a special price."

 _This guy? Generous? I don't think so. Does this guy think that I'm made of money?_

I wave my hand dismissively at him, "I said cheap."

He widens his forced smile, "It will be worth it, trust me."

 _Does this guy ever shut up? No means no._

"Hey! You got a problem? Do I look like a gal who would stay in a suite to you?"

David gives me a long hard look then sighs, closing his eyes and folding his arms, "Alright, you don't have to yell. I got it. I'm disappointed," he mutters under his breath.

 _Here is the grumpy guy underneath all that fake joviality. I knew it was only a matter of time. No-one is ever nice to you unless you have money and are willing to spend it. Neither of these conditions apply to me._

He shoves a piece of paper towards me, "Fill out this registration form and then you can have your room."

As much as I would love to flip him off and walk on out there to satisfy my inner rebel, I bite my tongue and take the form. He holds out a pen my way, "Here's a pen for you. Don't go stealing it."

 _Oh I am so glad I can stay somewhere without being prejudiced against. It warms the heart._

I snatch the pen from him and fill out the form in my messy scrawl. I pass the form back to him, he inspects it with a thoughtful expression on his face, "…Chloe Price?" his eyes narrow skeptically at me, "Your name really Chloe Price?"

 _What's this guy getting at?_

I nod, placing my hands behind my head, "That's what my parents told me."

He strokes his chin in thought, "Huh…"

 _What is this guy's problem?_

"That work for you? Or would you like me to change it?"

He glances up at me, an unamused expression on his face, "Forget I said anything," he mumbles in annoyance.

 _Oh no. You aren't getting away that easily. Nice try, but you are talking to Chloe Price, the most stubborn person alive._

I fold my arms across my chest, unwilling to let this go until I get an answer, "What now? You don't like my name?"

David shakes his head, "Nothing like that."

"Then what is it?" I insist, "Did you see my name on a wanted poster or something?"

 _I hope not, but you never know._

David sighs in exasperation and growls, "If you really must know, I had a guest with the same name as you. Happy now?"

 _I wasn't aware my name was so popular. What are the odds that another Chloe Price would visit this dump? If they did, I bet it wasn't by choice._

"Ecstatic."

He rolls his eyes and mutters to himself, "Anyway, about your room. You're in Room 219," he holds out a key, "Here is the key."

I take it from him and inspect it closer. It has the room number and the word "Wish" engraved on it.

 _Wish, huh? What's all that about?_

"Wish? What's that supposed to mean?" I ask curiously.

He stares at me with mild disapproval, "It's the name of the room. What else would it be?"

 _Alright. No need to get testy._

"The room has a name too?"

He sighs, rubbing his temples, "You a parrot or something? That's what I said. All the rooms have names. We got Wish, Bravery, Daybreak, Success… even Angel."

 _Is this guy real? I wouldn't have pinned him down as a man to name rooms._

I smirk, "Cute. You think those up yourself?"

His expression becomes steely, "Yeah, laugh it up."

"Seems kind of pointless to give a room a name and a number," I comment as I shove my hands in my pockets.

He grunts, "Well, you can think whatever you like. I've named the rooms and if you don't like it, then it's tough."

 _I think I've hit a sore spot._

I hold up my hands in defeat, "I'm just saying. No need to rip my head off."

He crosses his arms, "Figures you would say something like that. I guess that means you're not interested in the reason behind the naming of Wish then."

 _I do enjoy a good story, not that I reckon this guy could tell me one._

"I never said that," I protest.

He grins smugly, "Well, if you're going to beg, then I guess I can tell you."

 _You think whatever you like, pal._

"Just cut the crap and tell me," I demand, bored of his coyness.

He takes a deep breath, "The room you're staying in, Room 219, it has a… history."

 _Oh this should be good._

"What, like ghosts? You telling me it's haunted?"

He scoffs, "Ghosts ain't got nothing on this story," he leans in closer, "You got dreams? Something you wish for?"

 _I wish you would stop talking, but that doesn't look like it's going to happen._

"I'm not really the wishing type."

He looks me over and raises an eyebrow, "That doesn't surprise me to be honest."

 _Hey, what's that supposed to mean?_

I open my mouth to protest, but David continues, "Regardless, if you got something you want. I mean, really want…you just might find it tonight. You follow? That's the story…. That's Room 219," he pauses dramatically, "It's where wishes are granted."

 _I gotta hand it to David, he's not as bad at telling stories as I first thought. I mean, it's still a load of BS, but at least it's entertaining BS._

He searches around on the desk and hands me a brochure, "I dunno why I'm helping you, but take this. There's a map in it," I take the brochure and stash it in my notebook as he lectures on, "Right, you're all set. Your rooms on the second floor. Go through the lobby and up the stairs. Room 219's down the hall on the right. Restaurant's through the lobby and to the left. It opens for dinner at 6:00 pm and breakfast's at 7:30 am. Got a bar too. Opens at 9:00 pm tonight. Checkout's at 10:00 am tomorrow. Miss it and we charge double. If you want to stay another night, let me know. That it?"

 _I don't know if I got any of that. Never mind. I'll work it out later. This guy has a mouth on him, I can't get a word in edgeways. I'd better check if Frank's package is here yet._

"There's supposed to be a package for me," I mention, hoping it's here so I can get on out of this dump asap.

David turns around and looks at the pigeon holes, "A package, huh? Sorry, I don't see anything."

 _He didn't even check properly._

"It should be here. Maybe you can actually… look."

He crosses his arms, glaring at me suspiciously, "It seems a bit odd that you would send a package to a hotel where you don't have a reservation. It had better not cause me any problems."

 _This guy is hella paranoid. I wish he'd get off my crack._

"What kind of problems?"

He scowls at me, "Is it anything that's going to inconvenience my hotel?"

 _Inconvenience? What is he going on about?_

I cross my arms, a defiant expression on my face, "Depends on what you mean by 'inconvenience'."

He grunts, "Had some trouble with a package for another young gal like you. Turned into a damn circus."

 _Now this sounds interesting._

He shakes his head, "I don't want to have to deal with anything like that again. Let's leave it at that," he clears his throat, "I'll get the bellhop to look for your package. We'll bring it to your room when it shows up."

 _I'm curious about the guest with my name. I'll press him on it._

"So, you said a guest had my name?"

He nods, "Yep. Called herself Chloe Price, too."

 _Hmm…_

David strokes his chin in contemplation, "I reckon she was about your age, blonde, hazel eyes, pretty gal as I recall, had an air of mischief about her too. She looked like she could hold her own."

 _That description sounds familiar._

"I wouldn't mistake you two though. She was different," he comments offhandedly.

 _Different?_

"How so?"

He pauses for a moment deep in thought, "Wearing a nice suit, good shoes, the works. Looked like a somebody."

 _Ouch. No need to get personal. You're not really dressed like a winner either. Hey, I like my suit._

"I'll keep that in mind. So does Miss Somebody stay here often?"

David shakes his head, "Nope, just the one time. It was about… a month ago. Haven't seen her since."

 _It could have been Rachel. While I'm here, I'll have to go snooping for clues. Next thing, what's this whole wish thing about?_

I lean against the desk, "So, fill me in on this whole wish-granting gig."

David moves a bit closer to me, as if he is sharing a deep dark secret, "I heard things from the guests who stay in 219. First there was a young girl. Then a middle aged fella…"

 _Here we go, more jabbering. Why did I even ask? Why am I still talking to this guy? Once a detective…_

He takes my form and files it away, then turns back to me, "Both of them looked run down when they arrived. Like they had no future to speak of. When I saw them the next morning, they'd been reborn. They had a twinkle in their eye and they just looked… peaceful. The transformation was so drastic that I asked them what happened. And you know what they said? They both told me the same thing."

 _Here comes the punchline._

"'Room 219 is magic. It granted my wish. Everything is great now'," he has a serious expression on his face, "So that's why I said…"

 _Is this guy serious? I've had enough of this._

I chuckle at David's conviction, to which he looks annoyed, "What's so funny?"

I shake my head, almost disbelieving of this silly tale he's trying to feed me, "Nice try, but do I look like a mug to you? I didn't pin you down as someone who would tell me fairy tales."

David grunts, "A fairy tale? Is that what you think this is?"

"Come on," I smirk in amusement, "You don't expect me to believe that twaddle do you? I'm not a little kid."

He shakes his head, his jaw tightening, "You can think what you like, it's a free country."

 _This guy is unbelievable. Enough of this, let's get to the troublesome package._

"Talk about the trouble you mentioned earlier. What's the deal with that?"

David puts his hands on his sides, "That? Well, it was about six months ago. The bellhop brought a package to a guest's room, and then… BANG! A load of cops and detectives come storming in."

 _Detectives? Sounds serious. I wonder what was in the package._

His brow furrows in annoyance, "Seems that my guest was part of some big crime ring or something. She was using my hotel as a drop off for stolen goods," his hands clench into fists, "It was a damn mess! Gunshots in the hallway… screaming guests running around. I'll be damned if I ever go through anything like that again!" he looks me straight in the eyes, "That's why the Dusk's got a strict policy: No crooks… AND NO COPS!"

 _I guess I had better keep the fact I used to be a detective a secret then._

His face softens a bit, "You done?"

 _I was done about ten minutes ago. You don't half go on._

I nod in agreement, "Yeah."

He smiles at me, "Enjoy your stay."

 _I will now you've stopped lecturing me._

I grab my suitcase and begin to walk away from the desk to the stairs, but stop when I hear the front door creak open behind me.

 _Huh?_

A voice calls out, "Pardon me, sir. Do you have a room available?" I turn around and see an old lady with an eyepatch, "I need a room for the night."

 _Just another guest. I'm digging the eyepatch. It looks hella cool._

David grins at her charmingly... or at least as much as he can, "Welcome to Hotel Dusk ma'am. You are just in luck, we got vacancies. What are you looking for, darling?"

The woman smiles, "Well now, aren't you just a sweet-talker?"

 _Pfft, yeah right. You should have seen him talking to me a few minutes ago. Don't be fooled._

The woman continues, "But there's a certain room I want."

David nods, grabbing the notebook again, "Which room's that?"

She tilts her head slightly to one side, "The one I saw in the newspaper article! I want that special room. The wishing room. This is Hotel Dusk, is it not?"

David nods again, "It sure is ma'am. And I know the room you're asking for. Unfortunately, that rooms…"

The woman's face falls, "Oh dear. Is it taken?"

He crosses his arms, "I'm afraid so. I'm sorry ma'am."

 _What's with all this ma'am business? I didn't get that. No fair._

The woman sighs dejectedly, her expression filled with disappointment, "Well, isn't that a shame!"

David flicks through the notebook, "Would you like a different room? We have plenty."

"Yes, I… I suppose I'll make do with something else," the woman agrees reluctantly. David busies himself sorting out the room for the woman.

 _Time to bail before that wind bag thinks of something else to lecture me about._

* * *

 **So, David is Dunning Smith. For the old lady, I was going to keep the original character, whose name you will find out later, but I guess it could also be the homeless woman from LIS. Maybe a mixture of the two. Seeing as how the homeless lady doesn't have a name, it'll just be the same as the original character.**

 **Have a great day guys and see ya next time.**


	3. Picking Up The Pieces

**Hello guys. How's it going? I present to you the next chapter. Ta-Dah! I kept one of the Hotel Dusk characters because I couldn't really think of a suitable replacement. It'll still make sense though.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Chapter Two: Picking up the Pieces**

As I walk the short corridor to the stairs, I can see a door to my left. A sign outside reads **Two Whales Diner**.

 _Looks like a decent place. I can't wait to eat. I'm hungry like the wolf. The again, when aren't I?_

I place my hand on the railing and start to climb the stairs, but I am obstructed by a kid sitting in the middle of the stairwell. Her hair is tied up in bunches and she wears an oversized black jacket, a white top, a blue skirt and converses. When she hears me approach she stares up at me innocently, but there is a mischievous glint in her eyes I know all too well. She stares at me innocently, but there is a mischievous glint in her brown eye.

 _She looks like she's going to be a mischief maker… just like me._

"Hey."

The girl looks directly at me, her head cocked slightly to one side, "What?" she questions, her voice confident and her eyes defiant.

 _Here we go._

I wave my hand at her, motioning for her to move, "You're blocking the stairs, kid. Move it."

The kid stares at me for a moment, then she shakes her head and returns to whatever she was doing before, "No."

 _I knew she was going to be a problem, well two can play at that game. You don't know what you let yourself in for. No-one tangles with Chloe Price and gets away unscathed. I'll go easy on her._

I crack my knuckles, "What's the problem?"

She crosses her arms, giving me an unimpressed, "I'm playing."

 _Yeah, I can see that._

"This ain't a sandbox, kid."

She sighs exasperatedly, "Duuuuuuh! These are staaaaaaairs!"

 _Smart ass brat._

"Smart kid. Glad we agree. Now get out of my way."

The kid continues to sit there, refusing to acknowledge my presence.

 _This is why I don't like kids._

I grit my teeth and take a deep calming breath, "Where'd you come from? What's your name?"

The kid snaps her head towards me and squints her eyes at me, raising her voice slightly, "Leave me alone! I'm not telling you anything lady!"

 _Oh come on… I don't have time to deal with this._

"You won't tell me, huh?"

The kid grips onto her jacket, "That's what my mom taught me. She said I should never talk strangers my name. Especially jerks."

 _Well, isn't this kid a delight?_

"You got an answer for everything huh, kid?" I place my hands on my hips and put on my best stern expression, "You keep this up and we're going to have trouble. I'm not going to put up with your crap. Got it?"

The kid laughs at me, her expression one of mock-fear, "Ooooo, scary. What're you gonna do, huh?"

 _This kid really does remind me of myself. That same taunting voice and amused expression. It's like looking into a mirror. I really was a little shit._

"You want to know? Maybe I'll call David and have him throw you out," I stand firm, not wanting to let this kid get the better of me.

The kid's expression changes to one of worry as she cowers away slightly.

 _That scared you, didn't it?_

I cross my arms, "Maybe I'll call your mom and tell her that her kid's a damn terror."

The kid looks at me with sad eyes, "You'll call… my mom?" she looks down at the floor, her entire body slumping.

 _What's the deal? When I mentioned her mom, she looked a bit shocked. I'd better ask her._

"Hey kid. Where's your mom?"

The kid sighs dejectedly and hugs her knees, resting her chin on them, "She's… she's not here," she mumbles.

"What, you're not travelling with her?"

The kid nods, hugging her knees tighter. I sigh and run my fingers through my hair.

 _Why can't everyone just leave me alone today? I just want to get to my room, is that too much to ask?_

"Come on kid. Knock it off, will you? Why won't you move? Just tell me. Maybe I can help."

 _I don't have the energy for this conversation…_

"I…" the kid looks away from me, "I can't finish it."

 _What is wrong with everyone in this place?_

I tap my foot on the ground impatiently, "Can't finish what?"

Her brow furrows as she throws her hands in the air in frustration, "I can't finish my puzzle."

 _Is she serious?_

I rub my temples, the headache returning, "A puzzle? How's a puzzle stop you from moving?"

The girl looks down at the floor with a forlorn expression, "I… I can't finish it. It's almost done, but…"

 _This kid's nuts, just like everyone else in this place it would seem._

I roll my eyes, "This isn't the place to be working on a puzzle. Can't you do it in your room? Or in the middle of the road?"

The girl grips her jacket again, looking earnestly at me, "My dad say I make too much noise. That's why I'm here. I was gonna go back to the room when I was finished, but…" she swipes at her eyes, her lip trembling, "I can't OK!" she starts to sob, "I can't finish this stupid puzzle because It's TOO HARD AND STUPID!"

 _Great. Someone's turned on the waterworks. It giving me a headache. Well, I already had one but It's not helping it._

She wails, rubbing her eyes on the sleeve of her jacket. It doesn't look like she will be stopping anytime soon.

 _What did I do to deserve this?_

"Oh for the love of…. Stop bawling!" I groan, not that it seems to help the situation.

 _Give me a break._

I sigh and move closer to her, putting on the gentlest voice I can muster, "A puzzle isn't anything to cry over. Just… just give it here, damn it."

The girl stops crying almost immediately, "Are you gonna help me, lady?"

 _What is with this whole "lady" thing?_

"Quit calling me "lady". The name's Chloe Price. If you're going to talk to me, at least use my name."

She kid blinks her eyes at me a few times, "Lady Price?"

 _You know what? I could get used to that._

I shake my head, "Close enough. Just… give me the puzzle," I bend down to where the girl has placed her puzzle, seeing five pieces still laying on the floor. I deftly insert the remaining pieces into the puzzle, finishing it off for her.

 _Well, what do you know? Hawt Dog Man._

I step back and inspect my work, then point at the puzzle on the space beside the girl, "There you go kiddo. One complete puzzle. Now move it."

The girl stares at the puzzle for a moment, then shakes her head.

 _This kid…_

I take a deep calming breath, "What's wrong now? I did the puzzle. It's all good now."

Her brow furrows in annoyance as she stares at the puzzle, "No, It's not."

 _Unbelievable._

"It's not? Why not?"

The girl raises her voice and clenches her fists, "It just isn't! It's no fun if I don't do it myself!"

 _There is no pleasing some people._

The girl takes the finished puzzle and throws it down on the stairs. It hits the floor with a loud thud as I stand there in disbelief, "Oh, you're kidding me!"

 _What the hell is wrong with this kid?_

"What are you doing?" I question as I look on incredulously, then put on a stern expression and point at her, "You're a complete basket case, you know that? Way to show your gratitude!"

The girl pouts and folds her arms, refusing to look at me, "You talk too much!"

 _Oh hell no. I am not going to take this from a little brat like you. No way._

"Nice attitude, kid. You'd better watch your step!" my voice raises in volume, my tone harsh and steely.

The girl snaps her head to look at me, her eyes wide and I can see a hint of fear in them. She seems surprised that I'm telling her off, "Huh?"

I point to the puzzles pieces she threw, "Pick them up!"

The girl cowers away slightly, "No! You can't make me!" her voice is not as confident as it once was, it wavers.

 _Part of me feels sorry for her, but I am not going to take this kind of behaviour. Don't ever challenge Chloe Price. I never turn down a challenge._

I draw myself to my fullest height, "You threw it, so you pick it up. That's how it works. I'm sure as hell not picking it up. Well? What are you waiting for?"

The girl bends down to pick up the pieces, sniffling as she does so, "OK! OK! S-sorry…"

 _The little brat is pretty ticked off that I scolded her. Someone has to do it. You can't have kids running around thinking they can do what the hell they like. They'll turn into horrible adults. As much as I hate authority, even I get that sometimes, there are some things you just can't do. I learnt that the hard way. At least she's picked up the puzzle pieces._

The girl finally gathers together all the pieces and looks at the floor, muttering, "I'm done, ok? You happy?"

 _Sure, whatever kid._

"Thrilled."

The kid starts balling again, "I'm sorry. I'm so s-sorry… Wha… Whaaaaaaah! P-please don't hurt me!"

 _This kid is like a fricking yo-yo._

I wave my hand, dismissing her pleas, "Fine, yeah, whatever."

 _Just move so I can get past._

She continues to cry, which does not aid my headache at all. I rub my face with my hand, then sigh, "C'mon, kid. Cut it out already. I've got a splitting headache and I just want to have a lie down."

 _Maybe I was a bit harsh. I shouldn't really take everything out on a kid._

I rub my neck, "Hey… Look, I didn't mean to come across as…"

The girl suddenly stops crying and laughs at me instead, "Fooled ya! Stupid JERK!" she turns quickly and runs back up the stairs before I can say anything else.

 _When I get my hands on that little brat… who was she anyway?_

"I don't have time for this crap," I mumble as I go to make my way up the stairs, but stop when something catches my eye… a lone puzzles piece sitting on the step. I pick it up and turn it over, seeing a weird black line on the back.

 _Interesting. I'll have to keep this and give it back to that brat later._

I shove it in my pocket and now distraction free, I continue my way up the stairs.

 _Maybe now I can actually get to my room. Maybe I'm being too optimistic. It's never that easy._

At the top of the stairs is a long corridor, doors lining either side. A blue carpet lines the hallway and the wall are painted a cream colour, a few scuff marks here and there.

 _Well, I'm glad to know this place is at least consistent in being a dump._

Several paintings line the hallway. I inspect one closer, seeing it's just a bunch of fruit.

 _I don't really get all this art crap._

I turn to my right to go find my room and hear a door open. It is the first door on my left, Room 217. A blonde guy stands there in the middle of the corridor blocking my path. He mutters to himself as he stands there, unaware of his surroundings. I approach him, completely done with everyone in this dump, "Hey. Move it, pal."

He snaps his head up to face me, his expression contorting into one of annoyance, "What the hell do you want?" he grits his teeth together and clenches his fists.

"I said, move it. I've had a hella busy day and I want to get to my room."

He moves closer and squares me up, jabbing a finger at me, "Don't order me around. You don't know who you're messing with."

 _What is this guy's problem?_

"Then enlighten me."

He sneers, "I am Nathan Angel. If you have any sense, you will leave me the hell alone."

 _Jeez, this guy needs to chill out._

I hold up my hands, "Ok, chill dude. I'm not here to cause trouble."

He relaxes slightly, "You had better keep it that way. You don't want to anger me."

 _Well, this is awkward._

"So… you stay here often?"

"No," he grimaces, "Who would ever come back to this shit hole? I don't have a choice," he sighs in frustration and taps his fingers on his leg impatiently.

 _I guess he has a point. I think this will be my first and last time here._

"No choice, huh?"

He snarls, "It's none of your damn business."

 _This guy is a charmer._

"Ok, I was just curious. I'm not a cop or anything."

He furrows his brow, "That's a weird thing to say. So you're not?" he sighs, "Shame."

"Why's that?" I ask.

He turns to me, his eyes narrowed slightly, "Don't question me. I don't need a reason."

 _Why do I always have to deal with this crap? I could ask this guy about that kid while he's here._

"You seen a kid around here? Young girl, around ten. Rude as hell."

He looks confused, "Kid?" then his face shows realization, "You must mean Melissa. She's in 224. Staying with her father."

 _224… that's down the other part of the corridor on the left hand side._

"That it?" he clenches and unclenches his fists a few times, shifting his weight several times from one foot to the other. I nod and Nathan skulks back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

 _Well, that was a pleasant conversation. I'm just like everyone's personal punching bag._

I continue down the now free corridor and stand outside room 219. I place my suitcase on the floor and reach into my pocket for the key. I take it and open the door, picking up my suitcase and stepping inside. I flick the light switch on, illuminating the room in a dingy flickering yellow glow. I have to blink a few times to adjust to the change in light. The room is small and has very little furniture, an old TV sits to my left on a mini fridge opposite the double bed. A table and two chairs sit in the far left corner. The wallpaper is yellowing and peeling and the floor has some mysterious looking stains on it.

 _I think I'd prefer to keep those a mystery._

On the wall opposite the door is a window looking out onto the deserted wasteland, "So, this is where wishes are granted, huh?" I shake my head and throw my suitcase onto the small wooden table sat in the corner.

 _I can't believe I had to listen to that old windbag's BS. This room looks like the place where wishes come to die. I just don't get why he would tell me about the wishing gig. It doesn't make sense. Whatever. I'm here now. Don't let him take up any more of your time. Just finish Frank's job and get out of this hell hole._

I turn the light off again, flopping down onto the bed and rubbing my temples. I shift into a more comfortable position and stare up at the ceiling, finally left alone with my thoughts. I glance over to the window, an impenetrable darkness starting to form in the sky.

 _I will find you, Rachel. I have a feeling this place is going to shed some light on where you are._

I turn over and feel something dig into my chest. It is my necklace, three bullets hanging from the cord resting underneath my shirt. I clutch at it tightly. I like to keep it away from prying eyes. It's hidden, like her, except I know where the necklace is. I can feel it on my skin, it lays close to my heart… where she should be. I feel my eyes sting and tears threaten to fall. I swipe at my eyes and curl up into a ball, my hands clutching at the duvet, "You said you wouldn't leave me. You said you'd always be there," I draw a shaky breath, "I need you, Rach… where are you goddamn it?"

* * *

 **We should be meeting Max soon, probably in the next chapter. See you then.**


	4. Roommate

**Hey guys. This one is a really long chapter, because I wanted to get the story moving along. Max will be making an appearance in this chapter.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Chapter Three: Roommate**

 **BZZT. BZZT. BZZT.**

"Mmmm…" I groan as my phone vibrate in my pocket. I stretch out and yawn, grabbing my Red Crown jacket and putting it on to combat the sudden chill.

 _What now? Can't I get five minutes to myself?_

I blindly feel around in my pocket for my phone and glance down at the screen to see **Kate**. I sit up and shuffle to the edge of the bed, answering the phone and placing it to my ear. A sweet voice fills my ears, **"Hi Chloe. I'm surprised you're up."**

"I wasn't," I mumble as I rub at my eyes, my voice thick with sleep.

A cheerful giggle comes from the other end of the line, **"I can hear that."**

I roll my shoulders to work out the lingering remnants of sleep, "What's up, Kate?"

" **Just making sure you got there ok."**

I stand up and amble over to the window, peering out into the dusty wasteland surrounding the hotel, "Yep, I did. I'm on top of everything."

" **I find that hard to believe,"** Kate's voice holds a flicker of amusement and can imagine her shaking her head right now.

I rub my hand with my face, "That's because you know me so well," then balance the phone on my shoulder and open the window to let a bit of fresh air in to combat the room's musty smell.

" **That I do,"** she agrees, **"It's ok though, I trust you to get the job done."**

"What about Frank?" I question, pretty sure that I already know the answer.

 _Frank isn't the most trusting or friendliest of people._

" **I can't speak for him I'm afraid. You have to admit, It's not like you're an open book,"** she pauses for a moment, **"You are certainly shrouded in mystery."**

 _Mystery, huh?_

I lean my head against the cold glass as I stare outside, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kate scoffs, **"Oh come on. Don't act innocent with me. I've heard some crazy things about you. Are you an ex-cop on the take who had to leave town or a mystery man on the run from some shadowy organisation?"**

I walk away from the window and sit down on one of the chairs at the small table in the corner of the room, propping my chin on my hand and absentmindedly playing with a strand of my faded blue hair, "Does it matter?"

I hear a sigh, **"I'm not trying to back you into a corner here. Personally, I don't think you are either."**

Kate has never really asked me about my past before, respectful of my boundaries. It's not like I'm trying to hide it from her or anything, it's just never really come up before and I haven't felt strong enough to face it.

"Who do you think I am then?" I ask, intrigued to hear her answer.

She doesn't say anything for a few moments, gathering her thoughts before she speaks again, **"I think you're a pretty girl who has been through a lot and hasn't quite recovered and needs to find someone who cares about her."**

I smirk, "You offering?"

" **Oh ha ha,"** she laughs at my half-joking persistent flirting.

"I'm messing with you," I chuckle, knowing that Kate is probably bright red right now.

There is a slight pause, before Kate continues, **"On a more serious note, has the package arrived?"**

"Not yet."

I bet Kate is playing with her golden cross necklace right now, she always does it when she's deep in thought, **"Well, when it does, check the order sheet and give me a call."**

"I'm always happy for a reason to call you."

I hear a small chuckle, **"Chloe Price, you shameless flirt."**

My lip quirks upwards into a small smile, "You know me."

" **Yes I do,"** she giggles, **"Anyway, there are some new products in there. If you have time between sleeping and flirting, maybe you could work your charm on some potential customers."**

"I'm sure I can handle that," I assure her.

 _I have to admit, I am pretty charming when I want to be… and modest._

"Uh-huh. Oh, before I forget, the client list is in there. Don't just leave it lying around on the floor. I know what you're like. _Put it in your suitcase_ ," she stresses, knowing that I have a tendency to… misplace things, especially important documents.

"Yes ma'am."

Another muffled voice comes from the other line and I can hear Kate chatting with them, **"I have to go now. Speak to you later."**

"I look forward to it," I say as I hang up, shoving my phone back in my pocket.

 _It's always this way with Kate and I. It keeps the job interesting. Kate is Frank's secretary. She's easy on the eyes and pretty damn nice too, unless you get on her bad side. I remember once I hadn't eaten for the entire day because I was so busy. When she found out she was so mad and made me eat so much food. At least she cares, It's not really like anyone else would._

I hear an unfamiliar ring coming from the bedside table. I turn to see and old landline phone.

 _Kind of old school._

I shrug and pick it up, hearing a low gruff voice on the other end, **"Ms Price. It's David. How's the room?"**

I absentmindedly pick at the chipped blue polish my nails, "It'll do."

" **Good to hear,"** he grunts, **"By the way I forgot to tell you something. I need you to pay your tab up front."**

"Up front?"

I hear shuffling from the other end, **"It's hotel policy, with you being a first time guest and all. An experience I would not like to repeat."**

"What so you want me to pay right now?" I ask in disbelief.

 _This guy is unbelievable. I literally just got here._

" **No, not** _ **right**_ **now,"** he stresses, **"You only just got here. Get settled and relax for a bit. If you could get it to me before dinner, it'd be a big help. I'll be in my office or at the front desk."**

"Fine, whatever," I casually comment as I hang up, "Cash… where did I put it? I threw it in my suitcase," I stroll over to my battered suitcase sitting on the table in the corner. I rummage around in my pocket for the key, feeling various crumpled up unpaid parking tickets, loose change and cigarettes before my fingertips brush against the cold metal of the key. I pull it out of my pocket and stare at the suitcase it unlocks.

 _This used to be my Dad's suitcase before he died. It was passed down to me and I've been using it ever since. For a while I used to store empty bottles and trash in it, but now I use it properly._

I put the key in the lock and twist, but nothing happens, "Must be jammed again," I mutter as I turn it again, each time with more force than the last. A small snap rings through the air.

 _That did not sound good._

I take the key out to find it broken, "God damn it."

 _Of course It's broken, just like everything else I own. Now what? Maybe I can use some wire to open it. Let's have a look around._

I make my way over to the bedside table, a hotel brochure sits on it with a small metal paper clip attached to it, "A paperclip, huh? Better hang onto this. It might come in handy," I mention as I take the paperclip off the table.

 _Maybe if I straightened it out…_

I straighten the paperclip and wiggle it around in the lock of my suitcase.

 _Damn, too thin._

A knock at the door brings me out of my thought. I place the paper clip on the table and walk over to the door, opening it to reveal the bellhop carrying some cardboard boxes. His face is mostly covered by them, "Package for you," he states.

I step aside and motion into my room, "Ok, put it down anywhere."

The guy shifts the boxes in his hands, "Do you think you could take one? Their kind of heavy."

"Sure," I take the box and place it on the bed.

The bellhop looks down, his brown hair hiding his face, "See you, man! I gotta split."

 _Wait… that voice…_

"Gotta split? Wait a second."

The guy looks down at the ground, refusing to meet my eyes, "I mean…uh…I've gotta go! Gotta go, Price! Ah, damn."

"Hold it. I know your voice. Let me look at your face," when he doesn't look up, I grab his chin and yank it up, my eyes widening when I see a face I recognize, "Warren?"

He sighs and places the other box on the floor at his feet, holding his hands up in defeat, "Fine, you got me. Long time no see, Officer Price."

 _Last time I saw this guy he was roaming the streets of Arcadia picking pockets for a living._

"What are you doing here?" I ask, wondering what reason Warren Graham would have for being in a dump like this.

He shrugs, scratching his chin, "I could ask you the same question. On a drug raid or something?"

"We are talking about you not me," I snap more aggressively than I intended.

He sighs, "Fine, be a damn dirty ape. Long story short, being a pickpocket didn't work out, so I moved away and got a fresh start. Been working here for a while now. Not the best job, but better than nothing."

 _I highly doubt that._

I raise an eyebrow skeptically at him, not buying the whole innocent act, "You… working. I don't buy it."

Warren's expression becomes one of mock-hurt, "Hey, that's harsh," then he grins proudly, "I've gone straight. No more picking pockets for me. I moved here about six months ago."

 _About the same time I left the force then and when Rachel…_

I shake the image of her falling backwards off the cliff into the unforgiving seas of Arcadia and instead focus on him, "How'd you know I was here?"

He points to the box I put on my bed, "I saw your name on the package and started freaking out. A package shows up for the cop that busted me…I kind of wanted to forget all the stuff that happened in Arcadia," he rubs the back of his neck.

"Bad memories of me, huh?"

He nods, "Damn right," he asserts forcefully, then begins to backtrack, "No offence. It's nothing personal. I was just hoping my past wouldn't catch up with me is all."

I wave away his worries of offending me, "I get you."

He looks troubled, "I was lucky until now. Never seen a name I recognized."

 _What about the girl using my name?_

He turns to me, a question in his eyes, "So, you on vacation or something? Wouldn't have thought you would come to a place like this."

"It's complicated…" is all I offer him in the way of explanation.

"You always were so cryptic. Fine, whatever, none of my business," he grins, giving me a look of mild amusement.

I narrow my eyes at him, "What? Out with it."

He holds up his hands defensively, "Chill out. You just got a different vibe around you."

"Different vibe, huh?" I press.

He nods, "Yeah, the Officer Price I knew used to strut the streets in a slick black suit as if she owned the place. Now you've got that lousy leather jacket and wacked-out tie. I wouldn't have recognized you now."

 _He's right. We ruled the streets, Rach. You and me, playing the heroes._

"You were kind of cool, even when you were hassling me," he reluctantly admits.

I cross my arms, "Sorry to disappoint you. I change jobs and clothes. That's it."

 _Does Warren really not know about the other girl with my name? I'd better ask him._

"Anyway," I steer the conversation to another topic, "you sure you haven't seen anyone with my name round here?"

He strokes his chin for a moment, thinking hard, "I think I'd remember that. Why?"

 _How come Warren doesn't know? I thought he would have seen the name._

I shrug nonchalantly, trying to pass it off as unimportant. I can't help but feel a bit disappointed at the lack of information, "Just something the old-timer said. About a month ago a guest stayed with my name."

Warren tilts his head, "Don't remember ever seeing that. Sorry," he glances over his shoulder into the corridor, then back at me, "I should really get back to it," he goes to turn and leave, but pauses and faces me once again, "Look, you said you changed jobs. You mean it?"

I nod, unable to lie to him about this. For all Warren's flaws, he wasn't such a bad guy. Misguided yes, but not evil or anything, "Yeah. I hung it up."

His eyes widen in shock, "Wait… you quit?"

I rub the back of my neck, reliving the events of that day very vividly in my mind, "That would be an understatement. More like got fired."

"That's rough," he comments sympathetically, "What happened?"

 _ **The gun shot rings out into the air, causing the animals to dart away in a panic. She falls backward, her arm reaching out to me…**_

I shake my head and return to the present, shoving my hands in my pocket and sighing, "I'd rather not talk about it now. Maybe later."

He nods understandingly, "Cool with me. What do you do now?"

"I… sell household goods door-to-door would you believe."

Warren chuckles lightly at this new knowledge, "Guess we both got the short end of the straw, huh?"

"Yeah. I guess so."

 _Oh, how the mighty have fallen. If anyone told me this is where I would have ended up a few months ago, I would have probably beaten them to a pulp._

Warren picks up the other box from by his feet and grins, "I won't hold you up anymore. Oh, just don't tell anyone about my past. I don't want it spread around if you get me."

"Gotcha," I nod, realizing that Warren is trying to leave his past behind him and move on… unlike me.

"See you around," he waves as he leaves the doorway. I turn back and stride over to my bed, rubbing my hands as I look at the package. I rip it open to find a single red binder in the bottom with no order sheet. My brow furrows as I pick it up and turn it over in my hands.

 _This isn't Frank's package. That moron had one job to do and he's messed it up. Guess I had better get this sorted out. To the front desk… after I snoop around._

A title is written on the side in black pen is **The Secret Word Project**. Something falls out of the binder as I look it over, a photo of a forest like the one back in Arcadia. The sunlight seeps through the leaves of the swaying trees, everything looking almost alive. Flowers bloom among the tall trees, bursts of red and blue poking through the undergrowth. With my curiosity sated enough, I tuck the photo back in the folder.

 _Let's get this mess sorted out._

As I'm about to exit my room, something catches my eye. On the wall beside the door is a hanger made of thick wire attached to a wooden plank.

 _If I could get that off, maybe I could use it to open my suitcase. I'll keep an eye out for something to get it with on my travels._

With the red binder in hand, I exit my room. As I walk down the hallway towards the stair well, the door to Room 224 opens and the kid from before, Melissa, stands there with her back facing me, "Hey, kid," I call out as I approach her.

She turns around, looking a bit nervous but trying her best not to show it, "What?"

 _What's she up to this time?_

"What you doing?" I question her suspiciously. She stares at the floor, refusing to answer me, "Come on, kid. I don't have any more time for your games."

She glances up at me, her hands resting in the pockets of her jacket, "My name's not 'kid'," she sighs.

I nod, "I know. It's Melissa."

Her eyes widen in surprise, "How'd you know that?"

"I've got my ways," I briefly grin at the look of confusion that crosses her features, "Are you playing on the stairs again?"

She shakes her head, looking so dejected and forlorn, "No… but I… I lost something important."

I dig around in my pockets and produce the puzzle piece, holding it up for her to see, "Is this it by any chance?"

She stares at the puzzle piece in my hand and a small smile forms on her face, "Yeah. Where did you find it?"

"You missed a bit when you were picking it up," I pass it to her.

She takes the piece eagerly and grins thankfully at me, her expression almost making me forget about what a terror she'd been earlier, "Thanks. Mom gave it to me before she disappeared. Dad says he's going to take me to see her, but only if I behave. That's why I'm not going to be a brat anymore."

 _At least she gets that she was being a terror._

"Where'd your mom go?"

She shrugs and jams her hands in the pockets of her jacket once again, "I dunno. I was crying because I wanted her here for my birthday. Dad said we could go see her. He never said where she was."

 _Sounds to me like Melissa's dad doesn't know either. I wonder if she walked out on him… or is there more to the story. It's not really something I can ask outright._

I exhale, knowing what it's like to be a kid missing a parent, "That's quite the plan you got there."

She looks up at me, her eyes showing that inquisitive look children often get. They have so much to ask, but don't we all? "Where are you going, lady?"

 _Again with the lady…_

"Wherever my work takes me I guess," I shrug. I hadn't given it much thought beyond finding Rachel again.

She tilts her head to the side, "Sound like my dad."

"What's he do?"

"He's a surgeon and my mom works at an art gallery. Her name's Grace." her eyes sparkle and show her excitement when she talks about her mom.

"I didn't ask about your mom," I interrupt, Melissa's gaze drops to the floor at my rejection, "Fine," I concede, "tell me about your mom."

Her eyes light up and she beams at me, "She's nice, and pretty, and she bakes really good birthday cakes."

 _Always a good thing._

"What else?"

Melissa goes uncharacteristically quiet, "She always said nice stuff about my drawings. I used to draw her all the time."

"Drawings, huh? Why don't you draw her for me?"

Melissa nods, "Ok."

I pass her my notebook and a pencil. She puts the pencil to the paper and draws, sticking her tongue out in concentration as she does so. After a few moments she passes it back to me, looking proud of herself, "Here," I take the book from her and look to find a drawing of a woman on the page. Some of the lines are a bit wobbly and the proportions aren't quite right, but what does that matter?

 _It's actually not bad at all._

"It's a pretty good drawing."

She blinks at me, "You think?"

My lip quirks upwards into a lop-sided grin, "Yeah, you could give me a run for my money."

"You draw?" she questions curiously.

 _I used to all the time as a kid. It kept me out of trouble, which was always a good thing. I was such a little terror as a child, so anything to keep me entertained. I think I drew on the walls once…_

"Sometimes," I admit, "Mostly just cool tattoo ideas and things I see."

"Can I see?" she asks, her eyes wide with interest.

 _Why not? I'm sure I have a few doodles somewhere in my note book._

I shrug, "Sure kiddo. It's only fair. I saw yours," I flick through my notebook and find a few doodles. There is one of a doe drinking from a small pool of water in a forest clearing. Another is of a blue butterfly. The final one is of the full length arm tattoo I had done when I was nineteen.

 _I forgot this was in here. Rachel came with me when I got it done. She had one done at the same time, a dragon on her calf._

I hold out the book for Melissa. She stares intently at the drawings, her fingers brushing over them lightly, "They're so cool. I want to be able to draw like that."

I grin at her, "You will if you keep practising. Everyone starts somewhere. I've probably been drawing since I was your age and have done ever since," I take off my leather Red Crown jacket and then the suit jacket and roll up the sleeve of my shirt, revealing the colorful tattoo sleeve on my right arm, "I got that one there turned into a tattoo."

Melissa eagerly inspects my arm, her finger carefully tracing the red ribbon and vines which wind their way along my arm. She stares at the skull with a red flower and at the little blue butterflies at the top.

"Wow. It's pretty," she mutters, transfixed on the design.

A harsh voice booms from behind us, "Melissa! What are you doing?" we both turn to see a man standing there, his face stern and his arms crossed.

Melissa removes her fingers from my arm and hangs her head, "Dad, I was just-"

He points to the door, "Get back in this room right now, young lady!"

"Ok," she sighs as she slowly makes her way back to her room. I stand up straight and meet the eyes of the guy as glares at me before returning to the room.

 _Oh, the guys around here are such a delight. And people always wonder why I prefer gals._

I continue on down the stairs back through the lobby to the front desk. When I finally reach it, I see a girl standing near the front desk, her back facing me. I walk up behind her, "Hey…" she doesn't seem to hear me, so I gently tap her on the shoulder. She turns around quickly, her mid length brown hair swishing as she moves.

 _It's the same girl as I saw on the road side. What is she doing here?_

"I saw you on the roadside."

She doesn't answer. She just stares at me with her bright blue eyes.

"What's wrong?"

More silence and staring.

 _Not much of a talker, huh?_

A thought crosses my mind, "Wait… sorry, are you deaf? I didn't mean to…"

A voice from behind me speaks, "She can hear just fine," I turn to see a blonde haired woman. She's wearing a blue top and a black skirt with an apron, with her hands placed firmly on her hips, "But she hasn't said boo since she arrived. Believe me, I've tried."

"Who are you?"

She smiles at me and points to herself, "I'm Joyce. The maid _**and**_ cook."

 _Joyce, huh?_

"So, you're Joyce."

She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously, "Yeah, why?"

"David mentioned you."

She shakes her head and smiles, "So you've met David then? I hope he didn't give you too much trouble. He can be a bit brash sometimes."

"You're telling me," I jerk my head towards the girl, "Who's she?"

Joyce glance over at her, "That chatterbox over there is Max. You need something form her?" Joyce regards me with a look of curiosity, "And more importantly, who are you? I haven't seen you around before."

"That doesn't surprise me," I grin cheekily, "I'm a guest. Probably don't see too many of those round here."

Joyce raises an eyebrow, "Very funny. I thought you were one of those travelling saleswomen."

"What makes you say that?"

She points at the jacket I'm wearing, "The Red Crown jacket of course. I got something from you guys once. It broke straight away. Anyway, what's your name?"

"Chloe Price."

Her face shows recognition, "Ah, so you're the gal staying in 215?"

 _Never thought I'd be famous._

"Look at that. You do know me. So, the girl's name is Max?"

Joyce nods, "I'd say so. If you take her bracelet as any indication."

 _Bracelet?_

I walk over to Max, who stares at me intently, tilting her head to the side and gives me a questioning look. I point to the bracelet, "Mind if I look at that?" she shrugs and holds out her arm. The bracelet is black and blue with a sliver plate, **Max** engraved in it. My eyes widen with shock and my eyebrows shoot upwards.

 _Wait… that looks like… Rachel's bracelet. What is she doing with that? What the hell is going on here? Who is this girl?_

I stare at Max, who stares back at me innocently. I bite my lip to supress the flurry of questions my mind begs me to ask.

 _It's not the kind of thing I should talk about in the middle of a hotel lobby._

"Everything ok? You look like you've seen a ghost," Joyce walks up behind me.

I clear my throat, "Yeah. It's fine."

She raises an eyebrow sceptically and crosses her arms, "Uh-huh," she looks unconvinced, but thankfully doesn't push the issue.

"Is she staying here tonight?" I ask.

Joyce looks over at Max, who has resumed her window watching, "I can't very well just send her on her way. I'll probably put her up for the night."

 _What does she mean?_

"You'll 'put her up'?"

Joyce nods, giving Max pitying look, "Yeah. She can stay in my room until we find out more about her. She seems confused and lost, doesn't she?"

 _Where the hell did she come from? What is she even doing here?_

"I thought only little kids got lost?"

Joyce closes her eyes for a moment, deep in thought, "Maybe lost is the wrong word… you get what I mean though."

I look over to Max again. She turns and catches my gaze, her eyes so expressive and hiding nothing.

 _I guess they have to be if she can't say what's on her mind. It must be so hard to not be able to express yourself easily. Sure, there are other ways, but still… I wonder if she can't talk or won't. I'll have to think of a way I can communicate with her._

"I heard she was on the side of the road. Poor girl. She doesn't have much with her, just that bag. I have no idea what's in it, but it can't be that much, right?"

I glance over at the small bag hangs down from her shoulder. It's mostly blue and covered in small stickers and badges, "I guess not. Did she come here alone?"

Joyce shakes her head, "She got a ride to the hotel with that young guy. Blonde, kind of mean looking. What was his name… Nathan? I guess he picked her up thinking she was cute or something. But then he found out she doesn't talk, so he left her here. Can you believe it? Pretty cold if you ask me!" her brow furrows in annoyance.

 _That guy seemed like a moron to me. I'm not surprised._

She sighs, "Anyway, was there anything in particular you wanted?"

 _I nearly forgot why I came here._

"Yeah, your bellhop delivered the wrong package."

Joyce shakes her head, "Did he now? Well, that is no surprise. I'll just-" the phone on the desk interrupts her, "Hold on a second. I'll get that, "Joyce walks over to the counter and picks up the phone. As she chatters away, I walk over to Max, who snaps her head up as I come closer.

"So, your name's Max, huh?"

She nods in response.

"How old are you? Show me with your fingers."

She holds up all her fingers and thumbs twice, then four fingers.

"Twenty four? Is that right?"

She nods and smiles, then points at me.

"You want to know my name and age?"

She gives me a brief nod. I make my hands into a gun shape, "I'm Price," I point it at her and pull the imaginary trigger, "Chloe Price," she grins at that.

"Hey, what's so funny? I thought it was a pretty cool way of introducing myself."

Max's grin widens.

 _At least that got her smiling. She looked pretty miserable when I first saw her._

"I'm twenty five."

 _If I stick to yes/no or number questions, we can talk just fine._

"So, you here on your own?"

She nods sadly.

"That sucks. Well, you aren't on your own anymore."

She beams at me, her eyes sparkling.

I hear footsteps behind me and a voice speaks, interrupting our conversation, "Ok, so I've found your missing package. Another guest has it. They'll bring it over."

"Great. Thanks a lot."

 _Guess I'd better head on back now._

I go to leave, but Max grabs onto my arm. She looks up at me, her eyes pleading and her eyebrows upturned slightly.

Joyce smirks, "It looks like the girl's sweet on you, huh?"

Max's grip tightens slightly as she stares deeply into my eyes, giving me the kicked puppy look.

 _Damn it. I can't resist that look. I do kind of feel sorry for her. I guess a lot of people just ignore her because they can't be bothered to make a little effort to talk to her. I wonder how long she's been like this for._

I run my fingers through my mostly blue hair.

 _I could really do with re-dying it again. My strawberry blonde roots are starting to show._

I sigh and turn to Joyce, not sure how this suggestion will go down, "Look, I know you said she could stay in your room, but why don't I take her?"

"You?"

I shrug, "Yeah. Why not? She can sleep in my room if she's tired and when she wakes up, she can come with me. I mean, you are going to be busy all day, right? It might be nice for her to have some company and to get out a bit. It'll be boring for her to stay in the same room all day."

Joyce thinks for a moment, crossing her arms and closing her eyes momentarily, "Let's ask Max. She's old enough to make her own decisions I suppose," she turns to her, "Max, honey. You want to stay with Ms Price for a bit?"

Max nods excitedly, her blue eyes sparkling with happiness at the suggestion.

 _It's kind of cute. I mean… she is kind of cute in general._

Joyce offers me a small smile, "I guess that's settled then. You seem like a decent sort so far."

Max grins at Joyce, then at me. It's such a dorky grin that I can't help but return it, then I look Joyce straight in the eyes, "I promise I'll look after her."

Joyce's expression turns serious, "You'd better. I know where you sleep."

 _I doubt she is joking either. I don't think I want to get on Joyce's bad side._

"We can swing by your room later when you're free," I mention, "In the meantime, I'll try figure out where she comes from and who she is. Stuff like that."

Max looks up at me, her eyes showing excitement and happiness, her lips forming a huge smile.

 _Seems she could really do with someone to keep her company._

Joyce speaks up, "You think you could handle that?"

I smirk smugly, "I'm pretty good at solving puzzles."

"Alright then. No doubt I will see you around," Joyce calls back to us as she wanders off to wherever she needs to be.

 _Huh, well this is a strange turn of events._

I glance down at Max. She's quite a lot shorter than I am, maybe four inches of so. She tilts her head to stare at me, "You ready to go, Max?"

 _She reminds me of a lost puppy a bit._

Max nods and grabs hold of my hand tight, "Ok, let's blow this joint," we make our way over to the stairs and head on up to the first floor.

 _I wonder why Nathan brought her here. I should go ask him._

I stop in front of Nathan's room, "You mind going on ahead."

Max's eyebrow raises questioningly.

"It won't take long, I just need to check up on something."

She nods and I pass her my key, "Go take a nap or something."

She walks off down the corridor to my room. Before she enters, she turns to look at me. I wave at her, causing her to smile as she enters. I shake myself and go knock on Nathan's room. It opens to reveal him standing there, "What now?" he growls at me.

 _Glad to see he is as charming as ever._

"I'll cut to the chase, you brought a girl here, Max?"

His jaw tightens at my probing question, "Yeah, what about her?"

"Do you know her?"

He scoffs, "No. I saw her and picked her up. She asked me to take her to Hotel Dusk."

 _Well, that's the biggest load of bull I've ever heard._

"She _**asked**_ you to bring her here?" I question skeptically.

He sighs in frustration, "Well, she didn't talk. She had a brochure, ok? You done with the interrogations?"

 _I guess she must have been here before, or at least known about it._

"So, she had a brochure," I confirm.

He rolls his eyes, "That's what I just said. Are you stupid? I asked her where she was headed and she showed me the brochure. I needed a place to stay anyway. If I had known what a dump this place was, I wouldn't have stopped. Finished?" before I have the chance to answer, he slams the door in my face.

 _Well, that went about as well as I would have expected._

I continue down the corridor to my room. The door to Room 221 opens, the one opposite mine, and a tall woman with short blonde hair steps out, a derisive sneer on her face. She wears a black cashmere with a yellow collar, a short black skirt with tights, a pearl necklace, gold bracelet and a watch.

 _Not gonna lie, she's kind of hot._

She stands directly in front of me in a confrontational stance and gives me a condescending look, "You must be the woman from 219."

 _Does everyone here know of me?_

"Yeah. Who are you?"

"I'm staying in 221," she boredly answers.

"That's a funny name," I smirk.

She rolls her eyes at my comment and sighs, "I'm Victoria, if you must know."

 _Hmm… she looks like she's going to be a bit of a stuck up princess._

"Who are you?"

"Price. Chloe Price."

She crosses her arms, "Honestly, that David is useless. I specifically demanded that no-one stay in the room next to me or across the hall. It's already hard enough to stay in a place like this."

 _Jeez, what the hell is her problem?_

She crosses her arms, giving me a once over, "What line of work are you in?"

 _Someone's nosy._

"Travelling Saleswoman."

She exhales deeply, rubbing her temples, "Well that's a relief," she mutters as she fixes her hair with her hand.

"Why?"

She looks at me like I'm stupid, "Uh… because you won't try to take my picture."

 _What is she on about?_

I cross my arms and give her a mildly amused look, "Look, you're hot and all, but why would I do that? I got better things to do."

She turns away from me with an annoyed expression, "Good day, Miss Price. I'll-" she is interrupted by a voice I know well, "Yo, Price. Making your sales pitch to the ladies. I love it."

Victoria sighs and rolls her eyes, "Oh please…"

I rub my temples with my hand, "Warren, why don't you just lay off? Not everyone wants to have you hitting on them."

 _This guy just doesn't give up. I remember the first time I busted him, he tried to grab my ass and he got a punch in the nose for his trouble. He never tried again after that and he's calmed down a lot. He still latches into anything with a pulse, but not quite as aggressively._

"Certainly not me," Victoria huffs, "Now if you'll excuse me…" she turns on her heel and storms off.

I turn to Warren as Victoria slams her door, "Did you want something?"

He offers me a toothy grin, "Nope, just coming to check out Victoria. Thought I might be able to sneak a couple of lines in. Steal her heart."

I run my fingers through my hair, "You're an idiot. As further proof to this, you brought me the wrong package."

He smiles at me apologetically, "Sorry 'bout that."

"Yeah, well maybe if you spent more time focusing on your job and less on flirting, you might do a decent job."

Warren chuckles, "Ouch, you still don't pull the punches. I'll leave you to it," he calls back as he wanders off down the corridor.

 _Right, back to my room. Hopefully Max will be asleep._

I turn the handle and open my door. Max is sat on my bed. When she hears the door, her head snaps round and she beams at me. I place a hand on my hip, "Hey, I thought you were supposed to be asleep."

She looks at me innocently as I rub my face with my hand, "Joyce will kill me if you don't get rested. You don't want that, right?" she shakes her head vigorously in response, our conversation suddenly interrupted by a knock at my door.

 _Must be my package._

I step outside of my room so Max can get some sleep and am met by a middle aged man with brown hair, a goatee and glasses, "Would you happen to be Chloe Price?"

"Yep."

He gives me a smile, "Did someone from the front desk get in touch with you about the little mix up?"

I nod, "They did. You must be the guy who called earlier."

"The very same!" he exclaims, "My name is Mark Jefferson and I'm currently staying in Room 215."

 _I think I've heard this guy's name before…_

He pushes his glasses up his nose, "I received the package but didn't realise until I had opened it that it belonged to you. I do apologize for…"

"Whatever," I interrupt, bored of his ramblings, "Did you bring my package over?"

His face twitches in annoyance over my interruption of his grandstanding monologue. His jaw tightens as he points to the box at his feet.

I stare at him, trying to place his face, "I've heard your name before."

He seems to brighten up a bit, "Ah, I'm not surprised. Maybe you've come across it in a magazine or newspaper. You may have even actually seen one of my photos," he smirks smugly, "I don't like to brag, but I do have quite the large female fan base actually."

 _Sure you don't. It's not like you have a big ego or anything. I don't see why. Something about this guy rubs me up the wrong way. He's kind of shifty looking._

"I may have."

His eyes betray a flicker of surprise for a moment, "Oh, which one?"

"One of a forest."

He grins smugly, "Ah, you must be talking about "Through the Eyes of a Doe", part of 'The Secret Word Project'," he strokes his goatee, "It's a favourite of mine."

 _Through the eyes of a what now? Can he get anymore pretentious? What is this project? Sounds suspicious as hell._

Before I can ask, he speaks up again, "Do you think I could get my package now? I'm in a hurry," I pass him the red binder, his eyes softening as he takes it, "Perfect," he mutters as he stands there looking through the binder. He doesn't seem to ever remember I am here.

 _I guess I'll just get mine then._

I take the package from his feet and disappear back into my room. I move the now empty box onto the floor and place the package I just received on the bed. Max regards it with curiosity, then pokes it gently, causing me to smile, "You want to know what's in there?"

She nods eagerly as I begin to open the box, "I doubt It's going to be as exciting as you are thinking."

Inside are some new products, like a handheld sewing machine and an adhesive remover, alongside a couple of sheets of paper. I take the order sheet and give it a quick scan.

 _A red box and a girlie magazine, huh? What's so special about those?_

I fold the order sheet up and place it in my pocket. Max picks up the items, carefully examining each one, then placing them back in the box.

 _I should call Kate._

I take my phone out of my pocket, "I just need to ring someone up quickly. Then we can have a chat, ok?"

Max sits there patiently as I punch in the numbers and place the phone to my ear. I stick my tongue out at her as I wait for Kate to pick up, causing her to giggle.

" **Red Crown, this is Kate,"** a cheerful voice comes from the other end.

"It's Chloe. I got the package. Kind of a weird request. Who's the client on this one?"

Kate clears her throat, **"No idea, they were a new client. They sounded in a rush. Who knows what's in that box? It could be trouble."**

 _Kate always worries so much. It's kind of sweet._

"Thanks for the heads up. Anyway, I'll head down to the front desk first and poke around the lost and found, see if I can find the items."

She pauses for a moment, **"I've got a weird feeling about this one. Just be careful out there."**

"When aren't I careful?"

I hear a small laugh from the other end, **"All the time."**

 _She isn't far wrong. I do have a habit of finding trouble._

I brush a strand of stray hair out of my face, "Is Frank around?"

" **Not at the minute."**

 _He never is when I call. I wonder why…_

"Ok, I'll call back later," I hang up and turn back around to see Max has fallen asleep, curled up into a ball.

 _If she gets cold and catches something, Joyce will tear me a new one._

I pull a blanket up over her, careful not to wake her. I gently lower myself onto the bed beside her, it dips slightly as I sit down. I look down at Max's relaxed sleeping face, wondering how she fits into all of this. She stirs in her sleep and shuffles closer to me. I tentatively reach out and stroke her head, really looking at her. Freckles are dotted around near her nose, way too many for me to count and dark circles sit under her now closed eyes.

 _She looks like she hasn't had much sleep recently. Is there anyone searching for her? Is she on the run?_

I sigh and continue to play with her brown hair, her breathing steady and even as she twitches in her sleep.

 _I'm going to find something big here, I just know it. Something that will lead me to wherever you are Rachel…_

To my surprise, I feel something tugging at me sleeve. I look down to see Max's hand clutching onto me tightly as she sleeps. I try to pull my arm away, but she just grips on more firmly.

 _Well done, Chloe. As much as I would love to sleep now, there is work to be done. How are you going to get out of this one without waking her up?_

I gently shrug off my jacket and stand up, moving out of the way of her arms before she grabs me again. She hugs the jacket close to her, snuggling into it. I chuckle quietly to myself.

 _Looks like I've lost my jacket for now._

* * *

 **Enter Max. I'll have to change up a few things, but they will become apparent as the story progresses. I will be using the basic story line as a guide though. New roles this chapter: Warren is Louis, Victoria is Iris and Mr Jefferson is Martin Summers.**

 **Have a great day guys and see you later.**


	5. Sleeping Beauty

**Hey guys. I hope you are doing well. Here's the next chapter.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Sleeping Beauty**

 **5:30 – 6:00 P.M.**

 _Now that I am finally free from Max's clutches, I should start to search this dump._

I turn to walk out of the room. Before I exit, I pause to glance back at Max who is curled up on the bed, still gripping on tightly to my jacket. I go back over, take a piece of scrap paper and scribble down a note.

* * *

 **Max,**

 **I'm going to go do some major sleuthing. I'll be back soon to check on you. Try not to go wandering off, otherwise I might have to tie you to a chair… maybe you're into that, I dunno.**

 **P.S. Thanks for stealing my jacket. I totally didn't need it or anything… joking.**

* * *

 _I don't want her worrying where I've disappeared off to. Don't worry, Max. I'll find out what's going on._

I place the note on the bedside table and exit the room, closing the door gently behind me as to not wake her up. Up ahead, I see Joyce in the hallway holding a feather duster. I approach her, "Hey, whatcha doing?"

Joyce turns to face me, "Me? I'm cleaning, I don't know if you're familiar with the practise."

 _Ouch._

"Cute."

Joyce sighs, "Well, someone obviously doesn't get it, because no matter how many times I clean, it always seems to be twice as bad as before."

I hold up my hands defensively, "Don't look at me."

Joyce chuckles, "Oh, if I thought it was you, you'd know about it. I just wish Warren wouldn't sneak off so much."

 _Warren?_

She shakes her head as she cleans, "Problem is he's too engrossed in those games of his to worry about anything else."

 _Sounds like Warren._

"Sounds rough."

Joyce puts a hand on her hip as she waves around the duster, "Oh, another thing about Warren. That two-bit Casanova says he's fallen in love with Max. Can you believe it?" she sighs, "I swear, fawning over girls is the only thing he ever puts any effort into."

 _Sounds about right. That's all I ever caught him doing back in Arcadia._

"Tell me more about Warren."

Joyce crosses her arms, "Oh, he's a nice enough lad, but whenever you want him he vanishes mysteriously. Like now. To be honest, I'm surprised David has kept him on. Mind you, the stories about this place are enough to keep folks away."

 _Yeah, I'm sure that's the only reason…_

"Stories, huh? Like the wish granting thing?"

Joyce laughs, "Did David tell you that? No, this is something much more interesting…" she glances down at her watch, "…unfortunately I don't have the time to tell you right now. I have to go prep the restaurant."

 _Damn it. Way to keep me in suspense._

"You work in the restaurant too?"

Joyce nods, "Sure do. You should swing by with Max later. That girl is way too skinny. I worry about her. I don't like to brag, but I am quite the culinary genius."

I smirk, "Oh, really?"

"Sure am," she asserts.

 _I can't wait for dinner, especially seeing as how Joyce is so confident in her skills._

Her eyes soften, "Before I shoot off, how's Max?"

 _It's hard to tell. I've caught a glint of sadness and hopelessness in her eyes a few times, which really breaks my heart to see. I need to have a serious chat with her when she's rested up and we've eaten._

"She's fine, catching some z's."

Joyce sighs in relief, "Glad to hear. God knows she could do with it. Anyway, I'd better get going. Maybe I'll see you around."

"Sure."

Joyce walks off down the stairs, shouting back over her shoulder just before she disappears out of view, "Oh, if you see Warren, send him my way."

"Will do."

 _Right, now to find those items off of Frank's list. What were they? A magazine and a red box. So strange…_

A high-pitched whistling sound penetrates the air.

 _Huh? Whereas that coming from?_

I walk all the way down the corridor to the right. At the end are three doors. One leads up to the roof, the other two have **STAFF ONLY** written on them. I hear the whistling again. It's coming from the door on the right.

 _Let's go investigate._

I turn the handle and enter. As I come in, I can see Warren stood there engrossed in a magazine, "Wow, what a looker."

 _Oh boy._

"Warren, what the hell are you doing?"

He jumps, looking around guilty and shoves the magazine he was holding on one of the shelves pressed up against the walls. When he sees me, he relaxes, "Oh, Chloe, It's you… don't scare me like that!"

 _Someone is obviously up to no good._

I cross my arms, "Dare I ask what you were doing?"

Warren's gaze shifts nervously around the room, possibly looking for an escape route. When he realises there is none, he sighs, "Reading."

 _You know what? I don't want to know._

"So this is your hiding spot, huh?"

He raises an eyebrow, "What do you mean?"

 _Does he think I'm stupid?_

"You know damn well what I mean. Joyce is out there baying for your blood, because you aren't cleaning."

Warren holds up his hands defensively, "Chill out on the interrogations, I already did it."

I shove my hands in my pockets, "Sure you did. What did you clean?"

 _Oh, I can't wait to hear this._

"Uh…"

 _Come on, Warren. You'll have to do better than that._

"That's what I thought. You wanna get fired?"

Warren scoffs, "Fired? Yeah right. No-one else would take the job, not with all those stories out there."

 _Maybe Warren can tell me about them._

"What stories?"

He stares at me solemnly, "This place is full of them."

"Full of what?"

"Ghosts," he whispers in a hushed tone, "You know all the X-Files type stuff."

 _Ghosts?_

Warren clears his throat and continues, "There was an incident a while back. After it happened, everyone started talking about ghosts and hauntings and stuff. People claimed to hear someone crying. They saw a girl and if they tried to talk to her… she'd vanish. Just like that. It's enough to keep people at bay."

 _People do love a good haunting._

"You seen this "ghost"?"

Warren sighs, "I wish. It might make this job more interesting."

 _Glad to see he hasn't changed much._

"I forgot you were such a sci-fi nerd."

He grins, "Damn right!" then shifts his weight slightly to the left, "I tell you what though, when I saw Max today, she was turned away from me and it tripped me out for a second…" Warren gets this forlorn expression on his face, "There's no way that Max is a ghost… more like an angel that got lost… or something."

 _Is he serious?_

"I heard you have a thing for her from Joyce."

He straightens up, his voice raised slightly, "It's more than just a thing, man! It's love!"

 _This guy is unbelievable. So full on. I bet he hasn't even really talked to her._

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

 _Let's go back to the incident._

"How long ago was the incident?"

Warren scratches his head, "I think it was something like a year ago."

 _I wonder what went down._

"What happened?"

Warren offers me a small smile, "It seems you can't take the detective out of the woman… you look real weird without your badge and gun. I'd always pinned you down as a "cop for life" kind of gal."

 _Me too… but plans change._

"Yeah… anyway, what was this incident about?"

He taps his fingers against his leg, "Some guy and his daughter stayed at the hotel. In the middle of the night, the girl goes missing without a trace. No note, no body… nothing. That's when the stories really took off. That's where the whole ghost thing came from. They may be stupid stories, but they ended up bankrupting the hotel."

 _Bankrupt?_

"Seriously?"

Warren nods, "Yep. Place was empty 'til David came along about nine months ago. Then bam… Hotel Dusk is up and running. Good thing too, otherwise I wouldn't have a job and I wouldn't have met our residence fallen angel."

 _Warren, have you ever considered that you might scare some people off by being so weird about this?_

"So, you obviously think highly of Max?"

Warren shifts awkwardly, his face flushed, "She's… just perfect. You met her?"

"Yeah."

He grins, "Then you know what I'm talking about, right?"

 _Sure, Max is easy on the eyes, yeah._

"I guess."

He closes his eyes, "I know you only fall for chicks with… issues, but you can't deny the appeal."

 _Low blow._

"Wait, what's that supposed to mean?"

He opens his eyes again and continues, "They had stories about you. Chloe Price of the fighting 89th and her wacked-out lady lover… it was a famous on the streets. You never heard it before?"

"Not until today."

Warren smiles awkwardly, "Maybe I should have kept my big mouth shut…"

"Maybe you should have," I glance at the magazine he tried to hide earlier, "Is that yours?"

"No, someone left it behind."

 _Left it behind?_

"Shouldn't it go to David?"

Warren glances at the magazine, "He said I could have it. The rest of the stuff is locked up tight in his office."

 _Maybe I should search in there…_

Warren looks back at the door, "Anyway, I'd better get going before Joyce sends out a search party."

"She kind of already has with me."

"Fair point," he puts his hand on the door handle to leave, but turns back to me, "Why'd you come here of all places after you quit the force? This area is a wasteland."

 _So many reasons, but one sticks out more than the others…_

"Well, I have a lot of old contacts here, so I thought I could get a job, and… I'm looking for someone who went missing."

He raises his eyebrow curiously, "Someone?"

"Yeah, my ex-partner, Rachel Amber. Don't think you ever had the pleasure."

Warren strokes his chin, "Why's she missing?"

 _My mind swarms with the memory. Rachel…_

"She got shot up near the Arcadia Bay lighthouse six months ago and fell into the waters."

"Six months?"

I nod, "Yeah."

Warren pauses and continues hesitantly, "If It's been that long, I think It's safe to assume she's… you know…"

"I know she isn't dead if that's what you're implying," I snap.

He sighs and looks at me pityingly, "Look, I know you want her to be alive, but she is dead. Simple as."

 _Wants got nothing to do with it. I know she is alive._

"I get it though. Losing a friend is a tough deal. I lost a good friend about six months ago too," he sighs, "I've gotta split. Catch you later," Warren hurries out of the door. Once he's left, I pick up the magazine he was 'reading'. A short blonde haired girl in a swim suit stares back at me.

 _I recognise the girl on the front… she's an actress or something. She's pretty hot. Wait… isn't this the magazine on Frank's list? Maybe I can have a flick through it later… just to check It's the right one._

I pocket the magazine and begin to snoop around. There is a small locker in the right hand corner. I open it up, seeing a small red tool box on the top shelf.

 _Maybe there is something I can use in here._

I open it up and take out a pair of pliers.

 _I'll just borrow these for a bit…_

I have a closer look at them.

 _Hey, I bet I can get the wire from the coat hanger using these. Than I can finally get into my suitcase._

I step out of the room and begin walking down the corridor to the stairwell.

 _Guess It's time to check out the office._

"Excuse me young lady?" a gentle voice calls out to me as I stroll down the hallway. I turn and see the woman from the front desk asking about the wishing room earlier standing there, "Who? Me?"

She nods, "Yes. Do you know what time the restaurant opens?

 _Wasn't it around six?_

"It opens at six."

She smiles warmly at me, "Well, thank you. My name is Helen Parker."

"I'm Chloe Price."

She tilts her head to one side slightly, "Which room are you staying in?"

"Room 219."

She gives me a knowing look, "Ah, so _**you're**_ the rascal who has "Wish". I'm in Room 215. It's called "Angel". Nice name too."

 _I guess she likes the whole name thing._

"Thank you for your help. I have to go now," I nod as she returns to her room.

 _I wonder why she's staying here. She probably wouldn't tell me if I asked._

I walk back to my room and open the door slowly so as not to wake Max. She is still asleep, thankfully. I go over to the coat hanger and cut it. As I sneak over to my suitcase, one of the floorboards creak under my foot. I freeze and glance over to Max, who turns over but doesn't wake.

 _Let's put my thief skills to the test._

I insert the wire into the lock of my suitcase and jiggle it around. After a few moments, I hear a small click indicating the suitcase is unlocked.

 _Hella yes! Let's bust this bad boy open._

I open my case. It's kind of empty really. I locate the money in the bottom and pocket it. Apart from the money, there is a change of shirt and socks, a small flask and a pencil. Tucked away is a photo of two young girls. One of them has short blue hair and blue eyes, the other has long blonde hair and hazel eyes. They sit on a bench smiling, both looking so happy and carefree. I hide the client list in my suitcase and close it.

I look over to see Max still curled up on the bed minus the blanket, which she has kicked on the floor. I shake my head as I pick it up off the floor and cover her again. Her doe-like blue eyes flicker open slightly and sleepily focus on me. I mentally kick myself for waking her, "Hey. Sorry I didn't mean to wake you."

Max waves away my apology, yawning and stretching out on the bed.

"Have a good nap?"

She nods, giving me a small sleepy smile, her eyes unfocused.

"That's what I like to hear. You should try get some more shut eye while you can. I'll be back a bit later to check up on you. You need anything?" Max taps her cheek in thought.

"You hungry?" she nods eagerly, "Ok, I'll see if I can get you a snack. The restaurant opens soon, but being hungry is no fun."

She tugs on my sleeve and smiles up at me. I gently tap her nose, her blue eyes closing momentarily, "Now, get some more rest and I'll be back real soon."

 _I think there was a vending machine downstairs. I can get some change and grab something from there._

I grab a used cup from the side and inspect it. Seeing that it is mostly clean, I take it into the bathroom and rinse it thoroughly before filling it up and placing it on the bedside table.

 _She might get thirsty at some point._

"Be back soon," I promise as I head on out of the room. Before I head on downstairs, I put the pliers back in the locker. I head on downstairs to David's office door in the lobby. I knock confidently and wait, soon hearing footsteps and shuffling behind the door. It opens, revealing David standing there with his usual not so welcoming expression, "Yes?" he grumbles.

I hold up my cash stash, "I've come to pay up."

David opens the door fully, "Great. Tell you what, because of the package mix up, I'll throw in dinner as a bonus."

 _Oooh, free food._

"Sounds good," I hand him the money, "Could I get a bit of change too? I want to use the vending machine."

"I suppose if you have to," he mutters as he turns back into his office, coming back moments later with some change, "That all?"

"Yeah."

David scratches his chin, "I'm gonna close up the office now. If you need anything, it'll have to wait," he leaves without another word.

 _First things first, food._

The vending machine sits just to the right of the door. I peer inside at the treats behind the glass, wondering what Max would like.

I insert a coin and punch a button, causing a chocolate bar to fall down into the tray below. I bend down and grab it, David's slightly ajar office door now catching my attention.

 _Hmm… now's a good time to snoop around._

I sneak inside the small messy office, pulling the door to behind me. A desk sits to my right, covered in god knows what. A metal cabinet leans against the wall opposite the door. In the far left hand corner is a table and a couple of chairs. To my left are some drawers. I opt to check the desk first, seeing a notebook with **Supervisory Log** on the cover.

 _As good a place as any to start._

I open the book and notice some stuff written in scruffy hand writing. I squint in an attempt to read it.

* * *

 **October 5** **th** **2013**

 **Tidied up the cabinets today. Put things left by guests into Drawer 3. Put guest registration cards into Drawer A.**

* * *

On the wall near the desk, there are all the spare keys for the rooms. On closer inspection, I can see that the key for Room 219 is not there.

 _Huh?_

I walk over to the drawers near the door, opening the one labelled A and begin to flick through the files.

 _Let's have a look and see if I can find the registration card for the other Chloe Price. Here we go._

I locate the one I'm searching for and look over it, seeing my name on the paper.

 _What do you know? There_ _ **was**_ _another Chloe Price, or at least someone using the name. Looks like they were staying in Room 222 last month… interesting. Now, to see if that red box is here._

I stride over to the other side of the room to the metal cabinet. The top drawer has the number three by it, but there is a number combination lock on it.

 _Great… now what?_

There a piece of paper stuck under this cabinet, something I find odd. There is no way it could have gotten wedged under there by accident, someone has purposefully hidden it under the metal cabinet. I gently tug at the piece of paper, but hear a quite ripping sound.

 _I can't pull it out, it'll rip. Wait…_

My mind wanders back to a crowbar I saw in the room I found Warren in. I sneak back out of the office, go upstairs and grab the crowbar from the locker, then race back down and place the crow bar underneath the cabinet, gently moving it up.

 _It's so heavy._

I tease the paper out with my foot and carefully place the cabinet back down without dropping it. I inspect the paper to find loads of dots on it with small numbers written next to each one.

 _That was so worth it. Hold on…_

I grab a pencil off of the desk and connect up the dots. A three-digit number code emerges.

 _I bet this is the combination. At least I hope so._

I twirl the dials round to the correct numbers and hear a click.

 _Score one for Chloe Price._

There is a small red box in the bottom of the drawer.

 _This must be the one on the order form. Sweet._

I hide it in my pocket and close the drawer back up before exiting the office.

 _Now, back to Max._

"Hey, Officer Price," a voice behind me makes me jump and I spin around to find Warren stood there, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at me, "Where'd you come from?"

I shrug, "I was just having a chat with David."

A flash of worry flickers across his eyes, "What about?"

 _He's probably worried that I sold him out._

"Don't worry, it wasn't about you," I reassure him.

He smiles in relief, "Good. I got worried for a second," he gives me a curious look, "Officer Price, did you actually quit the force?"

 _There's no point lying._

"Yeah…"

"What the hell happened?"

The gunshot reverberates in my mind, "I screwed up a case."

"Sounds rough."

 _It was._

I look down at the floor and sigh, "It was six months back. My partner and I were working on a case together investigating a series of art thefts."

Warren's eyes flicker with recognition, "Wait… you talking about the crime ring?"

"Sure am. Nile."

He runs his hand through his hair, "Oh man."

"I guess you heard about that."

He bites his lip, "Yeah… so were you undercover?"

I shake my head, "No, I was in the office, pushing papers and drinking bad coffee."

"So… the other detective was running with Nile?"

"Yeah."

Warren looks stunned, "Wow. Some trip."

"You're telling me."

A stern voice comes from behind us, "So this is where you're hiding, Warren," I turn round sharply and see Joyce standing there.

He gives her a charming smile, "Hey, Joyce. What's up?"

Joyce points towards the restaurant door, "You know damn well what's up. You haven't finished setting the tables."

"Yeah. I'll go do that now. Catch you later," Warren grumbles as he skulks off with his tail between his legs towards the restaurant.

"Hasn't changed…" I smile, shaking my head at his determination to avoid working at all costs.

Joyce folds her arms and looks at me curiously, "You wouldn't happen to know Warren would you?"

"Yeah."

"Where from?" she asks, her eyes hard to read.

 _I can't tell her that he used to pick pockets…_

I clear my throat to buy myself some time, "He worked in a greasy pizza joint in Arcadia a while back. He's still as much a slacker now as he was then."

Joyce nods, "Well, that makes sense. Anyway, I have to go and get food on the table. I hope you'll pop by and try it."

"You bet."

She beams at me as she walks away.

 _Now, back to Max. I should probably update Frank too._

Before I go back to my room, I return the crowbar.

 _No need to keep this anymore._

I head on back to my room and carefully open the door to find Max has returned to being curled up in the blanket, still hanging onto my jacket for dear life.

 _It's kind of cute._

I sit down on the edge of the bed and gently shake Max awake, her blue eyes opening a fraction as I dangle the chocolate bar in front of her. When she sees it, her eyes open fully and she tentatively takes the bar. She offers me a thankful grin as she tears open the wrapper and takes a bite, her eyes closing contently as she chews, savoring the taste. She holds the bar in my direction, "You want me to have some?" I ask.

She nods.

"Ok," I lean in closer and bite the end off of the bar as Max grins. As I chew on the chocolate, I can see that she's managed to get some on her cheek. I shake my head, "Hold still," I command as I tentatively reach out to wipe it off her chin. Max sits there, averting her blue eyes shyly as my thumb brushes against her skin, a small smile forming on her lips. I wipe my hand on my jacket and take my phone out of my pocket, "I'm just gonna make a phone call, then we can chat more, ok?"

I dial the familiar number for Red Crown and soon hear Kate's voice once more, **"Red Crown, this is Kate speaking."**

"Hey Kate."

" **Oh, Chloe, good timing. Frank wants to speak with you."**

I hear the phone being passed over and a gruff voice grumbles, **"Price. Is there a kid named Warren Graham at that place?"**

 _I didn't know Frank knew Warren._

"Yeah. I know him from back in Arcadia," I confirm, thinking back to my encounters with him, "He used to pick pockets there, I busted him so many times, why?"

Frank coughs, **"I met up with a police buddy from Arcadia, one of the leads on the Nile case. He said that Niles looking for him."**

"What?!" I shout out, causing Max to look at me with a concerned expression. I smile at her to show I'm ok, then go back to focusing on Frank.

" **I'm just telling you what he told me. Six months back, they found a body near a warehouse. Some kid named Danny was working for Nile. I guess he got bumped off. With no witnesses or evidence, the case was written off. Anyway, seems like Warren is right in the middle of this. Danny was the middle man for a big pay-off. He gets killed, the money goes missing… and so does Warren. Rumour has it that they were friends. Nile wants their cash and Warren is their only lead. The police department thinks that Nile has tracked him down."**

 _All the way to this dump? Must be determined._

I had become familiar with the way Nile operated, so I found it hard to believe that Warren was still able to walk if they were onto him, "How's he still breathing?"

Frank pauses for a moment, **"Nile thinks Warren is just a pawn,"** he sighs before pressing on, **"Another interesting fact, the money Danny was dropping off, they got it from fencing stolen art."**

A sinking feeling enters the pit of my stomach as I realize the implications of this new information, "The cash came from the mess Rachel got involved in?"

" **Maybe,"** is all Frank manages. He's the only person other than myself who really knows I'm still searching for Rachel. He keeps telling me to let her go, but how can I after everything we went through together. I need closure and she is the only one who can give it to me.

"So Warren…"

" **Yeah,"** Frank interjects, **"he may know things about Rachel we don't,"** he quickly changes the subject, **"You find the stuff on the order form?"**

"Yep. All done," I confirm, still reeling over the possibility that Warren may know something about Rachel.

" **Perfect. Speak to you later,"** with that, he hangs up.

 _Short and sweet, like always with Frank. Right. Next thing on the list, find out what Warren knows about Rachel._

I turn around and see Max staring at me intently. When she catches me looking she blushes ever so slightly.

"Hey, were you staring at my ass the entire time?"

Max looks at me innocently, a look I almost buy. I cross my arms, "I'm not buying that innocent look."

She grins cheekily as I roll my eyes playfully at her, "I need to go sort something out. I'll be back later," I turn to leave but am stopped by a hand tugging on my sleeve, "You wanna come?" she nods eagerly.

"I'm going to see Warren, just to warn you. He'll probably hit on you relentlessly," I caution her, knowing that it would make anyone feel uncomfortable. This statement doesn't seem to deter her, she just continues to stare at me with those blue doe-like eyes.

 _I can't deny that look._

I sigh in defeat, "Ok, fine. You win."

She beams at my resignation.

"You have to behave yourself though."

Max nods excitedly as she jumps off the bed and grips on tightly to my arm. I reach down and ruffle her hair, making her bat away my hand. I chuckle at her pouty expression, "Sorry. I couldn't help myself."

She shakes her head, smiling at me.

"Come on," I motion towards the door, "let's get this over with."

I quickly shove the red box in my suitcase before we leave the room and head on down the stairs to the central hallway leading off to the lobby and the restaurant.

 _I bet Warren is hidden away in his room right now. Where would that be…?_

As if on cue, Joyce flies out of the double door at the end of the central hallway to the right, the ones that lead through to the kitchen, bar and restaurant.

"Yo!" I call out to get her attention.

She skids to a halt and glances over to me, "Yeah?"

"Where's Warren's room?"

She points to the door directly to the right of us, "Through that door on your right and second door on the left."

"Thanks."

She holds up her hand and storms off. We enter through the door to the right and walk down the corridor to the room Joyce told us. As we stand in front of Warren's door, I turn to Max, "Ready?"

Max clutches onto my arm and nods as I reach out and knock.

"One minute," a voice from behind the door shouts out. I can hear shuffling and footsteps coming closer, the door finally opening to reveal Warren. He grins at me when he sees me, "Hey, Officer Price…" then his eyes fall on Max, causing him to look away shyly and reach up to play with a stray strand of his long brown hair, "Hi Max."

"We need to talk," I chime in, breaking this weird atmosphere.

Warren shakes himself to his senses and steps aside, "Come in, I guess."

We enter Warren's room. It's a complete mess as expected, papers and clothes line the floor, a small bed lies in the far right hand corner with a small radio sitting on a bedside table next to it. To the left is a desk, covered in junk. On the wall are a lot of geeky posters.

"Nice place you got here…"

He narrows his eyes at me, "What do you want?" as he says this, he keeps glancing over at Max with a goofy grin. She seems a bit uncomfortable with this, so I instinctively move her further behind me. Max grips on tight to my arm. I take her hand and squeeze it gently, causing her to look up. I offer her a reassuring smile, one that she returns and loosens her grip.

 _It's ok, Max. I'm here. You don't need to worry. I won't let anyone do anything to you. If Warren so much as looks at you in the wrong way, I'll floor him._

I glare at Warren, who almost immediately cowers at the harshness of my stare and no longer looks at Max for fear of instigating my wrath. He clears his throat and flops down on his bed, "Look, if you're here digging up the past, then I'm sorry to tell you that you're wasting your time," he refuses to meet my eyes anymore, closing himself off.

"Warren, this is important."

He scoffs, "It's always important with you. Talk, I can't promise I'll listen."

 _This time it really is._

I take a step closer to him to ensure he can't ignore me and begin, "When I mentioned Nile, you went as white as a sheet. Why?"

"No reason," he mumbles into his hand. I can tell he is lying almost immediately. While he may have escaped a life of crime, he still has the same tells as before when I hauled him in for trying to pick my pockets.

I run my fingers tiredly through my hair, readying myself to get more aggressive with him, "Look, Warren. You'll tell me, whether you like it or not."

Warren clenches his fists and stands up abruptly, raising his voice, "I'm _**not**_ going to talk about it."

I feel Max recoil a bit from the sudden volume change. Anger pulsates through my veins as I square him up, getting right in his face and growl, "I suggest you keep your voice down."

 _This is where my height becomes a huge advantage._

He backs down and sighs, "Yeah."

I take a step back, easing the tensions, "Warren, please. I need to know. You know I wouldn't be asking you unless I really had to. I know your pal was involved in Nile and ended up getting killed."

His eyebrows raise in shock as he stutters, "Who…who told you about Danny?"

"It came directly from an LAPD source, one who also claims that Nile is hunting you down."

"WHAT?!" Warren yells, his chest rising and falling more rapidly as he searches my eyes to check I'm telling the truth. After a while he looks at the floor and mumbles under his breath, "Damn it. Why can't they just leave me alone? I thought coming here would shake them off."

 _Why did Warren leave Arcadia?_

"They're looking for some missing money, and you're their only lead," I press forward, determined to see this through. He is so close to spilling his guts about everything, I just need to keep carefully pushing forward.

Warren's hands clench into fists, "I have no clue where Danny's money is!"

 _Surely Warren must have some idea if he and Danny were friends._

"They don't think you're the big mastermind, so they won't kill you… not yet anyway," I offer him some reassurance.

He rubs his face with his hand, "This is just crazy."

 _Come on, Warren. Just tell me everything._

"You know who took the money?"

He crosses his arms, finally starting to talk, "The same person who killed Danny."

"And who was that?"

He looks a bit apprehensive, but continues regardless, "J…"

"J?"

He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, "That's what Danny called her anyway. Dunno who she is or anything. Just some other Nile lackey who use to work with Danny. I never met her. Danny said she was some kind of insurance-fraud pro. She'd get an art collector to insure something for a ton of money and then Nile would steal the piece. The insurance would pay out and Nile would sell the work back for major cash."

"Why did Danny get killed?" I question, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

Warren's teeth clench and his brow furrows, "He got tricked. He was going to lift this angel painting from Nile's hideout… but he ended up getting himself killed. It was all J's idea."

 _Angel painting?_

"What's this angel painting?"

Warren stares at his shoes, scuffing them against the floor, "I have no clue. Danny just told me about it. I guess it must be valuable. Said we could go live the big life, cars, clothes, babes…. After he got killed, I had to go. Too many bad memories. We had a plan, you know? Get out of Arcadia and start afresh."

 _I know that feeling._

He brushes his long fringe out of his eyes," Danny scored this big Nile job, started rolling in it… for what good that did him…. He said he had one final job and then we could go. I told him we should just leave, but he didn't listen," he sighs, "He was talking about just taking the angel painting. Then Danny talked about stealing the whole collection right out from under Nile's nose… he was sucked in to J's plan," he shakes his head and glances at me, "You just don't get any of it, do you?"

"Enlighten me then," I cross my arms in anticipation.

Warren looks up at me solemnly, "The night Danny died, I was panicking. He never showed up at the arranged spot. I went looking for him. As soon as I go up to Nile's Warehouse… BANG! Gun goes off. I hide and peek round the corner. I see Danny there, curled up quietly whimpering. Standing over him is this girl with a gun. That was six months ago."

 _So the girl who shot Danny…_

His face becomes pained, "I know what you're thinking. Yeah, J was the one who killed Danny. I wanted to go over to him, but I wasn't armed. I had to sit it out and wait for J to go. By the time she left, Danny was on the way out… he could barely speak. He managed to tell me he had been tricked by J, who turned out to be a cop. Then apologised to me… said he was sorry he couldn't get us the money."

I put an arm on Warren's shoulder and offer him a reassuring smile. He looks at me, a conflicted expression on his face, "What you said earlier about your ex-partner got me thinking… about working the Nile case," he goes over to his desk, retrieves a photo and passes it to me. I take it and stare down at the people in the photo, my eyes widening when I realize I know one of them.

 _What the…?_

He points to one of the people, "Guy in the middle is Danny, the gal on the right…"

 _Oh god._

"Rachel!"

"J."

I look down in horror at the photo, unable to comprehend any of this.

 _She wouldn't do that… would she? How could she?_

I feel a slight tug on my sleeve and look down to see blue eyes filled with worry staring back at me. Max bites her lip, as she holds on tight to my arm.

 _Max… I don't know what's going on anymore…_

I offer her a small smile and squeeze her arm to show her I'm ok… or at least as ok as I can be in this situation.

Warren runs a hand through his hair, bitterness overtaking his voice, "You get it, right? Your partner killed Danny! The cops used him and then killed him once he'd outlived his usefulness!" he exhales deeply, his tone cynical, "Not that anyone cares, right? Just some dead street punk. Your partner getting shot was justice. I bet that's why you got fired, right? Your buddy blew it and the Nile investigation went down the toilet."

 _That's not how it went down._

"No," I breath as I stare at Rachel's smiling face in the photo.

"No?"

"You're wrong. Nile didn't shoot Rachel…," a pang of guilt pierces my heart at the memory of her falling off the cliff into the depths, "I… I did."

Warren's mouth opens as if he is going to say something, but he doesn't. I continue, "Rachel double-crossed a lot of people. Including the police. When I found out I hunted her down."

* * *

 _" **Price, I've got bad news. It's Rachel. She's… she's on the take."**_

 _ **My stomach drops and my heart sinks,**_ _" **What the hell?!"**_

 _ **BANG!**_

* * *

I wince at the cruel reminder of the gunshot, "Rachel took a dive off the cliff… body never turned up. I 'fessed up and got fired."

Warren closes his eyes for a moment, "Damn. That's heavy. Sounds like she screwed everyone over. Even you. I bet you hate her."

 _Is hate the right word? I still don't know the full story._

"So… you're looking for Rachel," I nod, not offering anything else, "Wow…" he exhales, trying to process everything, then his face softens, "hey we can team up. We both want to find Rachel. We can give her to Nile, get them off our case. Two heads are better than one."

 _I guess he's right._

"Sure. Why not? I'll talk to you later. Have to get my head around a few things."

"I feel you there," Warren mutters as Max and I exit his room. We walk back to my room in silence, Max continuing to grip onto my arm tightly.

 _So, Rachel murdered her Nile connection and made off with the money. Why? Did she betray us all for that angel painting? Rachel…_

I open the door and sit on the edge of the bed, my shoulders hunched over as I rest my face in my hands.

 _I never would have guessed any of that. I feel a bit closer to discovering the truth. But, why did Rachel betray the Force… betray me? I've not been able to work it out._

I feel a warm pressure on my back. When I remove my hands from my eyes and look up to see Max's concerned face. She looks at me anxiously, rubbing my back gently with her hand. I reach up and ruffle her hair, "I'm ok. It's just… a bit of a shock. Just one of those days, you know?"

She nods sympathetically and continues to rub my back.

 _It soothes me. It's been so long since I've truly felt comfortable around someone._

"At least that's another part of the puzzle."

Max's stomach growls, causing her to look down at the floor sheepishly. I grin and glance down at my watch.

 _Nearly six._

I push everything I'm feeling about Rachel to one side for now, "I guess we should head on downstairs, get some food down us. Then we can try and figure out how you fit into all this."

Max beams at me warmly, her eyes gentle and reassuring.

 _Something about her smile makes everything so much better._

* * *

 **Have a great day guys and see you next time.**


	6. Hungry Like The Wolf

**Hey guys. How's it going? Here we have the next chapter.**

 **Enjoy.**

 **Chapter Five: Hungry Like the Wolf**

 **6:00 – 7:00 P.M.**

Max and I head on down to the restaurant. She picks up pace as we get closer, tugging impatiently on my sleeve.

 _She must be hungry… then again so am I._

A deep voice carries down the hallway, "Melissa! Look at me when I'm speaking to you, young lady! Why would you do that while we're eating?"

 _Sounds like trouble._

As we approach the door leading off to the restaurant, Melissa and her dad come into view.

"But…" Melissa begins, but is cut off by her father as he raises his voice, "But nothing!"

She cowers at his harsh tone, "Dad…"

He sighs exasperatedly, "Don't "Dad" me! I've had it up to here with your backtalk! For once, could you just do as you're told and be quiet! I'm tired of this, and I don't want to hear any more excuses. Go back to the room! I'll be up in a few minutes."

She clenches her fists, "…Dad… I… I HATE YOU!" she turns around and storms off to the stairwell, almost bashing into me.

"I think you could rival my temper tantrums," I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

She looks up at me, tears in her eyes, "Yeah. So what? I'm loud. Are you gonna shout at me too?" before I have the chance to say anything, she runs up the stairs with tears in her eyes.

Her dad rubs his face with his hand and sighs, then turns to us, "I'm sorry you two had to see that. Melissa does push me sometimes. I'm Kevin Woodward."

"I'm Chloe Price," I motion my head over to Max, "this is Max."

He raises an eyebrow as he looks me over, "Chloe… Price."

 _It appears I am infamous around here._

"Let me guess… you've heard my name before," I propose, getting used to the fact that everyone seems to know me some way or another.

He strokes his chin, "Possibly. Have we met before?"

I shake my head, "Nope. First time."

"Hmmm…" he pauses for a moment, then shrugs, "I'm sure it's just my mind playing tricks on me," he swiftly changes the subject, "Ms Price. Have you had any conversations with Melissa?"

I nod in confirmation, "Once or twice. We didn't talk about anything special."

"I see…"

 _What's he so worried about? Whatever. I'm more intrigued about the apparent popularity of my name._

"You know somebody with my name?"

He scratches his head, "It was probably just a patient who had a similar name. Sorry for rambling. If you'll excuse me…" he leaves, going back up the stairs to his room.

Max and I continue on to the restaurant, walking through the wooden double doors to our right. As we enter the next corridor, I spot Warren behind a small podium. He smiles awkwardly as we approach, "Good evening… uh… ma'am. Welcome to the Two Whales."

 _What the hell is up with Warren? It makes a nice change._

"I like the 'ma'am'. That's a nice touch," I lightly tease.

Warren sighs, "Yeah, rub it in. I'm just doing my job. Not the most glamorous part of it of course. The bar is much more exciting."

 _I may have to go and… inspect this bar._

"Where's the bar?" I question nonchalantly.

He grins at me knowingly, "Planning on getting wasted, huh?"

 _Is that my reputation?_

"Come on. Chloe Price doesn't get wasted, ever."

He gives me a disbelieving look, "Uh-huh."

 _Maybe he has seen me completely smashed a few times. I always used to try drink Rachel under the table… and I always regretted it._

He points to a door at the end of the hall, "It's straight down the hall. It opens at nine," he mentions as he taps his fingers on his leg, "We got a table all ready. Tonight's special is a big stake with some kind of weird garlic butter."

 _Warren has always had a knack for making things sound appetizing._

"Way to sell it Warren."

He offers me a toothy grin, "Seriously, this place does good food. You won't regret it."

 _Let's get some food._

"I'll take that then. I'll have some spuds and eggs too. Hash brown potatoes, eggs sunny-side up," I turn to Max, "Do you want that too?" Max thinks for a moment, then smiles and nods.

Warren stares at her forlornly for a moment then sighs, "Damn Price. You're invading on my turf. Not cool, man."

 _Max isn't your property Warren. That is hella creepy._

"Lay off, Warren."

He frowns in annoyance, "Yeah, yeah. Enjoy your 'date'."

I roll my eyes at him, "Warren, if you say one more thing I will beat your ass."

He holds up his hands defensively, "Whoa. Ok. No need for that. I've seen you in action," he clears his throat, "Oh, yeah, before I forget. Is there anything wrong with your room?"

 _I hope not._

"Not that I've noticed. Unless there is something you're not telling me…" I narrow my eyes at him suspiciously.

He sighs in relief then shrugs, "Nothing like that. It's just some of the rooms on the first floor are messed up. No-ones been in them for about a month now."

 _A month?_

"Which ones?"

"222, 225 and 223."

 _222? That's the one the other Chloe Price stayed in. Strange…_

He raises an eyebrow curiously at me, "What's up?"

I shift my weight to my right hand side, Max keeping a tight hold of my arm, "That's the room the girl with my name stayed in."

Warren's eyes widen, his mouth open slightly in shock, "How'd you find that out?"

I grin at him, "I put my thief skills to the test."

He rubs his face with his hand tiredly, "You broke into David's office?!"

 _Jeez, Warren. You don't need to shout._

"Oh yes. Why not tell the entire hotel? And no, I didn't _**break**_ in. He left the door open."

He sighs, "You would have made a good criminal, Price. Why'd you do it?"

"I think the other Chloe Price who stayed there was Rachel."

He runs his fingers through his hair, "You serious?"

"Hella serious."

He closes his eyes, deep in thought, then opens them to look at me, "Ok. In the future, just ask me, yeah? David would lose it if he knew you were sneaking around."

 _I bet. That guy already has a vendetta against me. Best not to shake the cage._

"I hear you. I need to get into Room 217."

Warren nods, "You got it. Restaurant's in the back around the corner. Go get some grub."

Max and I walk down to the restaurant, turning left at the end of the short corridor. Someone is standing in front of the doors to the restaurant. As we get closer I can see it's Victoria, looking irritated… but then when doesn't she? She doesn't seem to notice us as she mutters under her breath, "That little…"

"Hey, you're kind of in the way," I motion for her to move.

Victoria snaps her head up and scowls at us, "Oh, it's you. What do you want?"

"Careful. If you keep frowning like that you'll get wrinkles," I grin.

She glares at me, "I don't need your smartass comments right now. I'm in a bad enough mood as it is."

 _What's up with the princess?_

"How so?"

She sighs in frustration, "That little brat threw her stupid doll at me. I just asked her about it and she turned into a terror. I don't know why I'm telling you this. It's not like you care."

 _Melissa is an… acquired taste._

"Hey, I can sympathize with you. That kid has been a pain in the ass, at least at first. She's not so bad."

Victoria gives me a look dripping with contempt, "Right. I don't have time to stand her chatting to you and your hipster tag along. Au Revoir," with that she storms off.

 _As charming as the first time I met her…_

Max and I enter the restaurant and take the middle table. Just as I'm about to sit down, I see a doll on one of the chair. I grab it, wondering if it's Melissa's doll, and put it aside to bring back to her later. Max sits down in the chair beside me, shuffling it as close as possible. Any closer and she'd probably be sitting on me. She looks over to me, her dorky smile infectious as I beam back just as widely.

 _Man, when was the last time I ate this early? I don't even remember. I think the last time was… was when… when Rachel was still here._

"Look at you two… don't you look cute together?" I turn to the voice to see Joyce standing behind us, her hand on her hip as she stares at Max clinging onto my arm.

 _Well, at least she's enjoying herself. I don't like seeing her sad._

Joyce places two plates on the table in front of us. I thank her and Max gives her an appreciative smile.

 _It sure smells good._

She offers us a look of mild amusement, "I'll leave you two to it," she walks out of the room, leaving Max and I alone. Max rubs her hands together in anticipation.

"You must be hella hungry," I smirk as Max nods excitedly, pulling the plate piled with steaming hot food towards her. We both begin digging into our food, the silence only broken by the clattering of cutlery against plates and the occasional shuffling.

 _I am glad no-one else is around to see us eat. They might get a shock. I am not the most graceful of eaters to say the least._

I am finished within a matter of minutes, everything polished off and the gurgling beast in my stomach sated.

 _Joyce really wasn't lying when she said she could cook._

I lean back in my chair, placing my hands behind my head and sighing contently. I take this opportunity to watch Max, propping my chin on my hand as I idly gaze at her. She catches my eye a few times, blushing slightly on every occasion, then looking back down at her food. I smile at her endearing bashfulness.

 _She's so awkward… then again that's part of her charm._

Max works her way through her food, eventually finishing off the huge portion and sighing contently. She positions her cutlery on the now empty plate and flashes me a shy grin.

 _I'm surprised she managed it all to be honest. I nearly didn't._

"It looks like you enjoyed that."

She nods as Joyce makes her way back over to the table, beaming as she sees the empty plates "Well, look at that. Two clean plates."

I smile at her charmingly, "It was impossible not to finish. How could anyone waste such delicious food?"

"Well, aren't you a charmer," Joyce laughs heartily.

I offer her my infamous lop-sided grin, "I do my best."

Joyce places another plate on the table, "This dessert is from David as a way of apologizing for the whole package thing," a huge stack of pancakes sits on the table before us, causing Max's bright blue eyes to light up with joy.

Joyce smiles in amusement over Max's almost childlike excitement, "You like pancakes, Max?" Max's face is the total embodiment of pleasure right now, "I'll take that as a yes," she chuckles as she brings over the syrups and sugar. She also puts two smaller plates and some cutlery down on the table before us, leaving us to it.

Max gives me a questioning look, as if she's asking if it's ok to start. I motion towards the stack, "After you, Max."

She takes a pancake and carefully assembles her masterpiece. It really is a sight to see her at work. I take a pancake and dollop on some syrup, then rip into it with an animal-like ferocity.

"Ms Price," a booming voice comes from behind me, interrupting our meal. I place my fork back on the plate and turn around, seeing Mark Jefferson beaming at us.

 _Great. Just who I want interrupting me._

He offers me a charming smile, one that sets my teeth on edge, "I don't mean to interrupt, but I require a moment of your time?"

I weigh up my options, figuring that I can't really avoid him at this point, "Well, I'm too full to run away, so talk."

His gaze settles on Max for a moment, his eyes unreadable. They linger on her for much longer than I would like. I grit my teeth and clear my throat, breaking whatever weird trance like state he was in. He shakes his head and pushes his glasses up his nose, "One of the photos I was expecting is not in the folder. Do you think you could have a look for it when you are next in your room?"

"Sure."

He crosses his arms, a distant look on his face, "It is one of my favorites after all."

 _Good for you, pal._

He sighs forlornly, "It was in fact the photo that got me into the public eye. It is a photo of a very famous painting of an angel. I don't suppose you would know of it."

 _This pretentious…_

I lean back in my chair, staring him down, "What was in that folder anyway?"

Mark's face darkens a fraction, his tone more hostile, "Did you… look in it?" his entire aura seems to have shifted. His once relaxed posture suddenly becoming more rigid and the smug smile replaced with a stern down turned sneer. His eyes cold and threatening, eyebrows furrowed and shoulders tensed. You could cut the tension with a knife.

 _What is this guy's problem?_

"No."

He stares me down for a moment then sighs, his expression changing to one of relief, "Good. I must take my leave now. If you'll excuse me," he gives Max a final sideways glance before striding off.

 _What the hell is in that binder to get him so on edge?_

"Jeez. What's his problem? Bunch of creeps in this place," I mutter, returning to my pancakes. Max shrugs in response, still looking a bit shaken up. I reach out for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. She looks up, the tension in her body releasing as she returns my smile.

I hear footsteps behind me and turn to see Joyce again, "How was the food?"

"It was fantastic. I can't quite put it into words. I'm sure Max would agree," I compliment as I turn to Max, who nods in agreement.

"Good to hear," Joyce smiles, then looks thoughtful, "Who was that gentleman you were talking to?"

"Pfft. Gentleman is the last word I'd use for that creep. His name's Mark Jefferson."

Joyce strokes her chin deep in thought, "Wait, _**the**_ Mark Jefferson?"

"I guess," I shrug, glancing over at Max who appears to be as confused as I am, "You a fan?"

Joyce crosses her arms, a troubled expression on her face, "I don't know if I'd use that word, but I do enjoy some of his work, yes."

 _Figures he's some sort of big shot. He has that look of condescension, that 'I am far superior to you' smugness about him._

"What kind of stuff does he do?"

Joyce brushes her fringe out of her eyes, "Well, his earliest stuff, The Secret Word Project, came out about a year ago."

 _Isn't that the same name as on that binder?_

She has a kind of happy and distant expression on her face, "The photos were so beautiful and alive. So much emotion. All shot in Arcadia Bay," her smile fades, "Unfortunately, he is somewhat of a one hit wonder. All his newest stuff is… how to put it… a bit too dark for my tastes."

 _Here comes the reason for my creep-dar going off._

"Dark?"

Joyce sighs, "Yes. He seems to have become obsessed with the concept of power relationships, especially over young girls. I find it a bit creepy to be honest. I liked the simplicity and uniqueness of his earlier work. It makes you feel at peace, all your troubles just disappear… now, he's gone down a route I have no interest in," she folds her arms protectively across her chest, "It's a bit disturbing if you ask me. If he's releasing this kind of thing publically, who knows what he's doing behind closed doors."

 _I wouldn't want to take bets._

Joyce's eyes show sudden realization, "That's it! I'll have to get him to sign the photo I have… when I find the time," she offers me a coaxing smile, "Maybe you would do it for me. I don't have a lot of time to spare."

 _So much for not actively searching him out again…_

"Fine," I agree as Joyce hands over the photo she has stashed in her pocket, "Thanks. I owe you. Now, I have to go. Look after yourselves," she waves us off and leaves the restaurant.

After the countless number of distractions, we are finally ready to leave. Max grabs hold of my arm again as we exit the restraint and head back on out into the central hallway. As I go to make my way to the stair, I feel a tug on my arm. I glance back to see Max fixated by one of the paintings on the wall.

"What you looking at?" she motions to the painting. It's of a bunch of apples.

 _Not really my kind of thing._

"You like it?" she stands there, really examining it then shrugs, "Yeah. Me neither. I mean, it's ok, but there are better ones, right?" Max nods in agreement.

"Ah, Ms Price," I swivel around to see Helen, the lady with the eyepatch from earlier. She tilts her head curiously at Max, "Who's your friend?"

"This is Max," I motion to her as Max hides behind a bit, poking her head around and offering Helen a shy smile. She returns Max's smile then asks, "Have you just eaten?"

I nod, "We have. It's pretty good in there."

Helen smiles at me, "I'm glad to hear that. It's hard to find a decent place anymore."

"I hear that."

She glances over to the door, "I shall leave you to the rest of your evening. Enjoy," with that, she enters the double doors leading through to the restaurant.

"Price," a familiar voice calls out to me, turning out to be Warren. He is holding out something in my direction, a fountain pen, "I came to find you in the restaurant, but you had left. This yours? It was just outside the restaurant. Seeing as you guys were the last ones there, I thought it'd be yours."

I take the pen from him, inspecting it closer. There is something engraved on it, but I can't make it out. I run my fingers over the grooves to try work it out, "No, but I might have a way of finding out. You got any chalk or flour, something like that on you?"

Warren strokes his chin then points over to the blackboard advertising the Two Whales, "There is probably some there."

Joyce shouts from the kitchen, "Warren! I need you!"

He sighs, "I'd better get going. Speak to you later," he offers us one final grin and leaves. I grab the chalk, placing some on my finger and rub it along the pen, blowing away the excess.

 **To Alan, with love**

 _Huh? Yet another mystery. This place is full of them._

I shove the pen in my pocket and we make our way back upstairs. At the top, I remember that I have Melissa's doll and turn left much to Max's confusion, "I need to give the doll back to Melissa," I clarify.

Max nods understandingly and follows me to Room 224. I knock and wait, the door finally opening to reveal Melissa, "…Oh. It's you," she mutters as she stares at her feet.

I hold out the doll, "You left this."

Her eyes widen as she takes it from me, then smiles appreciatively, "Thank you. I thought I'd lost it. My mom gave me this doll."

 _Is she alone?_

"Your dad in?"

She shakes her head sadly, "I dunno where he is. I've been a brat. He's probably gone somewhere so he doesn't have to see me anymore. He hates me."

Max takes a step towards Melissa, crouches down and gives her a hug. Melissa doesn't seem to know how to react initially, her eyes widening in shock. After a couple of seconds, she clings onto Max and starts sobbing her heart out. Max lifts her up, looking back at me briefly with a sad expression, and brings her back into the room. She brings her over to the bed and lets Melissa cry it out, stroking her hair gently as Melissa buries her head into Max's shoulder.

 _It's really heart breaking to watch. I get what it's like to have a missing parent as a kid. It sucks ass._

I join them on the bed, looking on helplessly as Melissa cries her eyes out. She eventually calms down, shuffling as close to max as she possibly can. I pass her a tissue, one she gladly accepts as she dabs at her eyes. I shift closer, placing a hand on Melissa's arm and rubbing it reassuringly, "Look, I don't know what happened with your parents, but I get what it's like to not have both parents."

Melissa sniffles, looking at me with wide eyes, "You… you do?"

I ruffle her hair, giving her a sad smile, "Yep. When I was a bit older than you… my dad got killed."

Her eyes widen further in shock, "How?"

 _That's the thing…_

I close my eyes, remembering the 'official' cause of death, "I wish I knew. Well, if you believed the press, he died in a car accident, but I think there is more going on than that. Anyway, my point is that I kind of get how you're feeling now. It sucks, right?"

Melissa nods, still clinging on to Max tightly and mumbles, "I just want to see her to come back."

I sigh sadly, "I know that feeling," I glance over and see the puzzle she was doing earlier on a table, "Hey, I have an idea. Shall we get you through that puzzle? The one you were doing earlier?"

Melissa sniffs, "But it's hard."

 _An excuse I've used so many times. Just because it's hard, doesn't mean you shouldn't do it._

"Nothing worth doing is ever easy. Besides, Max and I are here to guide you."

She looks deep in thought for a few minutes, then she nods, "Ok," she detaches herself from Max, but clings onto her hand tightly.

 _Poor kid. I get that people go through rough spells, but as a parent, you have to try and put them behind you for your kid. I know it's not easy, but if you're not careful, it can really affect your kid. Like now._

Max stands up and Melissa leads her over to the table. I join them, Melissa looking at me as I come over, "What first?"

I point down to one of the four corner pieces, "I always get the corner pieces first."

Melissa sifts through the pieces, locating the corners and putting them in, "Now what?"

 _She really is paying attention to every word I say._

"Now for the rest of the edges," Melissa makes short work of this, still holding onto Max's hand.

Her face crumples up in confusion, "This is the hard bit."

I take her free hand and guide it to the pieces, "First, turn them all over, so you can see what each bit looks like."

Melissa does this, then gives me a questioning look, "Now?"

 _She looks so helpless and lost. I know this look all too well. I know the feelings of abandonment and eventually bitterness that come along with it even better…_

I feel a hand on mine and glance down to see Max's worried face peering up at me, her eyes asking me so many questions all at once… the most prominent being 'are you ok?'. Melissa looks up at me with rapt attention, waiting for my next instruction.

 _I must have been staring off into space._

I offer Max a small reassuring smile, then turn back to Melissa, "Look for pieces that match up with the parts you already have. So these pieces would go at the top…" after a few minutes, there is a complete puzzle on the table, "You did it. Well done!"

Melissa stares down at the now finished puzzle, a small smile forming on her face as Max squeezes her hand, "This was fun. Thanks."

I ruffle her hair again, this time she bats at my hand, "Hey, you did it, squirt. We just gave you a little bit of guidance. Now, we have Hawt Dog Man."

 _I remember this. I used to spend so long watching that show._

"Hawt Dog Man?" Melissa question curiously.

"Yeah, this guy had a TV series and everything."

Melissa looks down at the floor, "Oh. Mom gave me the puzzle for my birthday."

"When's that?"

She mumbles, "June 29th."

"You have fun?"

Melissa shakes her head and clings onto Max again, "That's when… when Mom left," she looks up at us, desperation in her eyes, "Why did she leave…?"

Max glances at me helplessly, uncertain how to answer.

 _This is just too much. Where the hell did her mom run off to? Wait…_

I walk over to the puzzle, remembering the black line on the back of the piece from earlier. I carefully tip the completed puzzle upside down. On the back are written two words …

 **Goodbye Melissa**

 _What the…?_

The door creaks open and I spin around to see Kevin. His brow furrows in confusion as he sees Melissa clinging onto Max, "What are you doing in here?"

Melissa jumps up off the bead and steps towards her father, "We were playing."

His face suddenly changes from confusion to anger, "I told you not to let anyone in our room!"

 _Not cool._

I draw myself to my fullest height and stand in front of him, squaring him up, "Hey. Don't shout at the kid. Shout at me if you're going to shout at anyone."

He sighs, rubbing his temples and backing down, "I'm too tired to argue. Please just leave."

 _I guess we'd better go now. Even though I am curious as to why Melissa's mom left. I doubt he'd tell me. No need to get him all riled up, at least more than he already is._

We go to leave, but I feel a tug at my sleeve. When I look down, I see Melissa staring back, "Thanks for playing with me."

Max smiles warmly at her while I grin, "No worries, squirt. Stay out of trouble."

We finally exit the room and make our way back down the corridor, worrying for Melissa. I glance over at Max, impressed at how well she handled the whole situation, "You did a pretty good job with her, you know," she looks away shyly at my praise. I nudge her arm, "I mean it. You'd make a great mom."

We enter my room and I begin searching the bottom of the now empty box that once contained Mark's red binder. I manage to eventually find the picture. It's of an angel in a blue dress set among a blue sky with purple clouds.

 _Yet another artistic "masterpiece" lost on Chloe Price._

Max yawns, stretching her arms in the air. I motion to the bed, "Go get some more shut eye," she pouts at my suggestion, like a rebellious kid.

 _That look doesn't work on me… maybe it does a bit… but I won't falter._

I cross my arms, giving her my sternest expression, "Don't give me that look. You need to rest."

Max concedes, looking a bit bummed out as she realizes she won't win this. I go over to her, placing my hands on her shoulders as she gazes up at me with bright blue eyes, "I'm not going anywhere exciting, not without you. I promise. I just need to give Jefferson that picture. That guy gives me the creeps. I'm sure you'd agree," she nods in agreement, anxiously biting her lip as I continue, "He kind of gave you a weird look I don't like."

 _He probably scared her a bit. I wish I could just beat his ass down and be done with it. I've had to deal with enough guys like him in my time. They thought because Rachel and I were girls, that we were easy game and wouldn't fight back. More fool them._

I put an arm around her, "Don't worry. I'll make sure you're ok. I made sure Warren didn't do anything, didn't I?"

She gives me an appreciative smile, putting her head on my shoulder as her eyes closing.

 _I got stuck in a situation like this before and I lost my jacket. It's not going to happen again._

"Now, bed. I'll be back soon."

Max makes her way over to the bed and lays down. Once she's settled, she stares at me, her eyes pleading with me. I concede, joining her on the bed to appease her for a few moments. She shuffles closer to me, her hand lightly grazing mine. I take her hand and squeeze it, then lightly kiss her forehead, "Sleep or no more kisses for you."

Max immediately shuts her eyes, her eagerness making me chuckle as my lips briefly touch her cheek.

 _How can one girl be so adorable?_

I reluctantly leave her and exit the room.

 _Now to go give this back to that creep._

I walk over to Room 215 and knock. The door opens, revealing that smug grin that rubs me up the wrong way, "Ms. Price. I assume you found my photo?"

I nod, his almost predatory stare making my skin crawl, "Yep. Who painted the picture?"

He seems a bit surprised by my question, "A man named Osterzone. A very interesting story actually."

 _I'm sorry I asked._

He launches into a lecture, "The only thing we really know is that he was a British painter from the nineteenth century. This painting was the highlight of his career and is rumored to be his last piece. The title of it is "Angel Opening a Door". I have to admit, while this is not my usual style, something about it captivates me."

 _I bet. Probably ties in to a weird fetish you have._

"Anyway, here's your photo," I shove it towards him, his hand lingers on mine for a bit longer than I feel comfortable with. I pull my hand away.

 _I would so love to punch that smug grin off his face._

He smiles at me, "Thank you. Now, I must return to my work."

 _This guy thinks he's such a lady killer._

He stares at me for a moment, then closes the door. I shudder involuntarily from the thought of what he might consider as "work".

 _I hope that is the last time I have to actively seek him out… or actually speak with him all together. I feel dirty just talking to him. Now, back to Max._

As I walk down the corridor, I hear a bashing. Intrigued, I scan the hallway to work out where its coming from. Just as I'm about to give up, I hear it again.

 _I think it's coming from behind Room 223. I thought it was empty._

I can hear crying coming from behind the door so I knock on it, "Is someone in there?"

The sobbing continues, "I'm… scared."

 _Is that Melissa?_

"Melissa? What are you doing in there?" I call through the door only to be answered with more sobbing and a wavering voice, "It's dark and I'm scared. I can't open the door. I'm stuck."

 _Great. Now what?_

I race back to my room, finding Max half asleep on the bed. When she hears the door burst open, her eyes flicker open and stare at me questioningly.

"Melissa's got herself trapped in a room," I pant lightly. She quickly stands up from the bed and follows me down the corridor to Room 223. I tap on the door to get Melissa's attention, "Melissa, Max is going to be just outside this door, ok. I'm going to go look for a way to get you out of here."

"Hurry… please."

 _She doesn't sound good. We don't want her panicking._

I turn to Max, "Max, make sure she's ok."

Max nods and taps her hand on the door, reassuring Melissa that she is not alone. She does this every so often. Each time Melissa taps back, showing us she's ok.

 _That should give her something to focus on at least. Thank god for Max. I don't know what I'd do if she wasn't here._

"I'll be right back," I shout over my shoulder as I run downstairs and through the double doors leading to the restaurant.

 _Got to find Warren. He'll know where all the electricity stuff is._

Warren stands there behind the small wooden podium, looking bored out of his mind. When he sees me, he smiles. Before he has the chance to speak, I cut in, "Warren, Melissa got trapped in room 223."

His eyes widen a bit in surprise, "You serious?"

I pant heavily from all the running, "Hella serious. Can we get some light in that room? She's freaking out."

 _I need to get back into shape._

Warren sighs, "I leave it unlocked for two seconds… the room opposite mine has all the electrical stuff in it. Let's go," he motions to the door. We stride out and turn left, opening the door to the small corridor where Warren's room is. He enters the door opposite his room and switches on the light. There is a switch board with various different buttons and switches attached to it. Warren and I work together, flipping a few of the switches.

Once were done, I start making my way back out, "I'll head on up back to 223 and see if that's worked."

I go back upstairs to Room 223, Max turning to face me as I approach. I tap on the door again, "Melissa. Open the door."

The handle wiggles, "I can't."

Max knocks on the door again, followed by Melissa knocking back. I run my fingers through my hair, trying to think something up, "Ok. Just wait a second."

I feel around in my pockets, trying to find something to help me out. My fingers brush against the metal wire from the coat hanger I used to unlock my suitcase with earlier. I bend down and wiggles the wire in the lock, hearing a muffled click.

"Hella yes!" I shout in triumph as Max opens the door, almost bowled over when Melissa launches herself at her. Max wraps her arms around her in an attempt to calm her down. It takes a few minutes for Melissa to calm down enough to talk to us.

Max opens the door and is almost knocked over when Melissa launches herself at her. Max hugs her tight. It takes a few minutes for her to calm down enough to be able to talk.

"Hey, why you in here?" I gently question.

Melissa looks up at me, a few stray tears falling down her cheeks, "'Cuz don't wanna be with dad anymore. He lied to me. He said I could see mom… but he doesn't know where she is or why she left."

 _Why did he come here of all places? It doesn't make sense._

"Did your dad know this place from before?"

Melissa nods, "Yeah, he had to look for it on a map and stuff. He said that Hotel Dusk was where we could find out where mom went…"

Max glances at me worriedly. I bend down so I am at Melissa's level. She looks me straight in the eyes as I place a hand on her arm, "Look, your dad didn't want to see you cry, so that's probably why he said he knew where your mom was."

Her face scrunches up in confusion, "But it was a lie. Mom's not here."

 _Lies… funny things. Some are to stop other from getting hurt… others are to protect yourself. Which ones did you tell, Rachel?_

I put this thought out of my head as I continue, "Everybody lies, sometimes because they don't want to see the people they care about sad. It doesn't make it right and it usually makes the situation worse… but it's just what we do."

Melissa swipes at her eyes, "Do… do you lie?"

 _I'd be lying if I said no._

I gently rub her arm, "Sometimes. But I promise I won't lie to you, ok?" Melissa nods her head as press on, "Your mom didn't leave because of you."

Her eyes focus on the floor as she mutters, "Mom and dad always fought."

"About what?"

She sighs and brings her gaze back up to me, sounding so vulnerable right now, "Everything. Dad always said it wasn't his fault and mom said they had to find a way to fix stuff… then she would cry," Melissa clings onto Max tighter, "I know… I know she's not coming back. You were wrong. It was my fault. I told her I hated her and that I didn't need her. She was shouting and being scary. I told her I didn't need a mom like that… that's why she left. On the day she left, dad drove me to school. I asked mom why she wasn't doing it, she always did. She didn't say anything… she just looked real sad. She was crying and looking at me as we drove off. When I came home… she was gone," Melissa's face crumples up at the memory.

 _Well, this is some heavy stuff._

I rub the back of my neck, trying to find the right words to say to her, "Kid… I know this is hard for you. I get it. Your mom didn't leave because of you. I know that. Don't think it was your fault, ok?"

"Ok."

 _She shouldn't ever have to feel that way. It's obvious there is something bigger going on here. What were Kevin and his wife arguing about so much? I have a feeling this goes a bit deeper than whose turn it is to do the dishes._

"Now, run along to your room," Melissa untangles herself from Max and exits the room. I sigh, tiredly running my fingers through my hair, "That poor kid…"

Max offers me a sad look and nods sympathetically.

"I wish there was more I could do for her. I really do."

 _I'll keep an eye out._

We both exit the room to find Kevin wandering down the corridor to his room. Overtaken by anger at his neglect, I stroll up to him, "Hey, how's Melissa?"

He looks confused, "She's ok… I think. She's in the room… I assume."

 _Dad of the Year Award for this guy._

"I suggest you pay a bit more attention to where she is. She got trapped in Room 223."

His eyebrows raise in shock, "What?!"

 _I may not be able to do much for Melissa, but I can call him out. It might not do a lot. Maybe it'll make him see how all this is affecting her._

"Look, pal," I cross my arms, desperate to knock some sense into him if I have to, "I don't know what going on with you and your wife, to be honest I really don't care, but one thing I do know is that you should be looking out for your daughter a hell of a lot more than you are at the minute. All this crap is messing her up. Where the hell where you?"

He refuses to look at me, "That… I… I just went out onto the roof for a while," he glances back at the door, "I'm going to check on Melissa," he mumbles as he turns back to enter his room.

 _The roof? I wonder what he was doing there._

Max and I go to the door at the end of the corridor that leads out onto the roof. I can see someone in the distance. When we get closer, I can see it's Victoria.

 _What's she doing here?_

"Hey."

She turns, her eyes showing a slight hint of worry which soon turns into contempt, "Oh. It's you. What are you doing here?"

I shove my hands in my pockets, "We just came to get some fresh air. Is that what you're out here for too?"

She scowls, "Get off my case. I don't have to explain every little thing that I do or get your permission," with this Victoria storms off not saying another word.

 _Yet another delightful conversation._

"What's her problem?" I ask Max, who simply shrugs as we stare out over the vast desert surrounding the Hotel. The sun is beginning to set over the area, casting an orangey haze on the dusty plains. Birds lazily swoop as the cool breeze laps at my skin, gently ruffling my hair.

 _So many things keep turning up. Where is Melissa's mom? What happened between her and Kevin? What was he doing out here on the roof? Was he speaking with Victoria? So many new questions… and no answers to be found. Add them to the growing list._

"It's pretty out here, huh?"

Max nods, gazing off into the distance.

 _It's so quiet and peaceful out here. Reminds me a bit of Arcadia Bay._

As my eyes fall on the hushed surroundings something warm brushes against my hand. I glance down to see Max's fingers lightly touching mine. Without hesitation, I take my hand in hers firmly and slowly intertwine our fingers. She smiles at me warmly, a smile that pushes back all my fears and worries of the future. As we stand there I feel at peace with the world, more so than I have done in a long time. I bring her hand to my lips and place a brief kiss on the back of her palm, "We'll work all this out… together."

 **I hope you enjoyed that and I shall see you next time.**


	7. Cashing In

**Hello my fellow LIS geeks. How goes it? I am finally back with this story. Get ready for more cute Pricefield.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Chapter Six: Cashing In**

 **7:00 – 8:00 P.M.**

As Max and I stand there on the roof, my pager goes off with its usual high insistent beeping. I take it out of my pocket and glance at it, seeing that Kate is trying to get through to me. It had been a while since I last checked in and so much had happened. I shove it back in my pocket and glance over at Max, who is shivering slightly.

 _I guess we'd better get back. I don't want her catching a cold or something._

"You ready to head back?" I ask, receiving a nod in response. We head off of the roof and back to my room, Max clinging on tightly to my hand the whole time, occasionally pulling me back when she falls behind. When we finally reach my room Max perches herself on the edge of the bed, her eyes bright and attentive.

 _That sleep must have done her some good. She still looks tired, but not like she is going to fall over from it._

I offer her a small smile as I reach into my pocket and brag my phone. I dial the number for Red Crown and wait for Kate to pick up. Soon enough her happy voice filters through the phone, **"Hello, this is Red Crown, Kate speaking."**

 _How does she do it? If I was in her position, I'd end up growling at people all the time. I can get hella grumpy._

"It's me."

" **Ah, Chloe,"** she exclaims, **"I'm glad you got round to ringing. I have a message from Frank."**

 _Oh, this should be good._

"Hit me with it," I amble over to the window, peering out over the darkening sky.

Kate clears her throat, **"He's gone out to meet his LAPD contact and said that if you need anything to ask me."**

 _Hmm, it's not like Frank to be so helpful. I wonder what he's up to. I should use this opportunity though._

I switch the phone over to my right hand before answering, "Actually, there is something. Do you think you could try to dig up some info on a painting? It's called Angel Opening a Door, by a guy named Osterzone."

I hear laughter from the other end of the line, **"This seems like a set up to one of your cheesy pick-up lines, but ok."**

"Would I ever use a cheesy pick up line?"

I imagine Kate raising her eyebrow skeptically at this point as she replies, the amusement obvious in her voice, **"Oh really? I seem to remember a certain someone saying something along the lines of 'Hey babe, are you ok? Because heavens a long fall from here', but yes I can look that up."**

 _She does have a good memory. I must have used that one pretty much the first day on the job._

"Thanks, Kate."

" **No problem,"** shuffling comes from the other end of the line, **"I'll ring back as soon as I have something. Talk to you soon,"** Kate hangs up. The moment she does there is a quiet knock at my door followed by a loud whisper, "Hey, Chloe. It's Warren. I got that… thing you asked for," I move away from the window and open the door for him. His eyes dart to the corridor to check no-on is around before passing the key to me, "Here is the key to Room 222, like you asked. Just be careful to make sure no-one sees you use it. David wouldn't be happy."

"Hey," I narrow my eyes at him as I push his shoulder, "I'm always careful."

Warren raises an eyebrow skeptically, "Sure you are. Oh, did you find anything out about that pen yet?"

I shake my head, "Not yet. I'll keep digging."

Warren nods, "You always were good at that. Anyway, I'd better get going before Joyce flays my ass. See you around," he leaves before anyone sees this suspicious exchange. The last thing either of us need right now is for people to start questioning.

 _Time to check out Room 222._

I examine the small metal key, a key that may hold the answers to the questions I have been desperately searching for this past six months, then hold it up for Max to see and wink at her, "I think this might just be the… key to this mystery."

She shakes her head, however her lips betray her mock-annoyance as the corners quirk upwards into a discreet smile. I shove the key in my pocket and turn to Max, who stares back at me curiously, "Want to go on an adventure?"

Max offers me the dorkiest grin I have ever seen anyone have as she latches onto my arm. We make our way out of my room across the corridor to Room 222, stopping dead in our tracks when we hear the sound of a door closing shut up ahead. I peer down the corridor, trying to work out which door it was, "Did you hear that?" I whisper. Max nods, anxiously worrying her lip between her teeth as her grip on my arm tightens and she meets my tense gaze.

 _We have to be careful._

I lean close to her ear, my voice low, "Keep an eye out while I unlock this. I could do without someone ratting out on me to David. He already hats my guts for some reason. No need to add fuel to the fire," as I look over to her, I can see a very slight blush on Max's cheeks. This close up, I can see her freckles properly. They cover her nose, too many for me to count. Her shy doe-like blue eyes pierce mine, automatically causing my cheeks to heat up too. I clear my throat nervously and walk over to Room 222, Max keeping an eye out as I unlock the door with a quiet click. We pile into the room quickly, closing it shut as silently as possible so as to not draw unwanted attention. My nose is immediately hit with a musty smell.

"You'd have thought they could have cracked a window open or something," I cough, looking over to Max whose nose is crinkled in disgust at the offensive odor. Trying to ignore the smell, I press on into the room and begin my investigations. There is a similar set up to mine, just the bare basics.

A bathroom sits to our left. Behind it is a bed with some bedside tables. In the far right hand corner are a small table and chairs, similar to mine. There is a chest of drawers to our immediate right that catches my interest. I open the first draw and see a silver metal lighter, one I recognize. I pick it up and turn it over in my hands, examining it closely to confirm what I already know…

* * *

 _ **I place the cigarette between my lips, searching my pockets for my elusive lighter. I pat down all my pockets, but I can't find it anywhere. Eventually I give up, sighing and rubbing my face with my hands, "Great."**_

 _ **I feel a hand on my shoulder, bringing me out of my grumbling, and turn to see her face smiling back at me, "Priceless, you really need to be more organized. Here, use mine," she holds out her lighter and lights my cigarette for me. She was always the prepared one.**_

" _ **Thanks, Rachel," I smile appreciatively, inhaling deeply.**_

 _ **She grins at me, her hazel eyes filled with amusement as she lights her own cigarette, "Anytime."**_

* * *

The flashback makes my eyes sting with unshed tears. My grip around the rusted lighter tightens as I perch myself on the edge of the bed. So many memories race through my mind as I stare at the lighter, her smiling face and mischievous hazel eyes haunting me.

 _Rachel…_

The bed beside me dips. I glance up and am met with anxious blue eyes. Max's brow furrows in worry as she tentatively reaches out for my hand, glancing at my face every now and then to gauge my reaction. Her fingers brush against the back of my hand lightly. Before she has the chance to take her action back, I grab onto her hand. She seems a bit surprised at my sudden movement, but quickly adjusts, intertwining my fingers with hers.

"I'm ok. Just remembering. This was Rachel's lighter. It just brought back a few memories is all," Max nods sympathetically, her eyes watching my every movement. I squeeze her hand, then pull back, "We don't really have time to sit around moping. Someone might catch us," my eyes fall on a painting which is propped against one of the bedside tables on the floor.

 _That's weird. Why is a painting on the floor?_

I stand up and walk over to it, seeing a photo poking out from the corner underneath it. I pick it up and see a young girl and a man standing together, probably a father and daughter. I turn to show Max, but she has already left. I stash it in my pocket and leave. The door to my room is open, I assume from Max. When I enter, she is staring at the floor with a puzzled expression, "What's up?"

She looks at me, confusion in her eyes as she points to the floor. I squint and see that it is wet, then offer her a cheeky grin, "Max, didn't I house train you well enough?"

She playfully punches my shoulder and pouts at me. I hold my hands up in defeat, "Sorry, I couldn't resist. Seriously though, what is going on?"

She shrugs, looking as perplexed as I feel. The trail of water leads into the small bathroom to my right. I step inside, examining the area with a scrutinizing gaze. My eyes follow the trail leads all the way up to the toilet. I stride over and try to flush it, but for some reason it refuses to. I take the lid off and see a suspicious plastic bag inside. I take it out and inspect the content, my eyes widening when I realize what's in it. I feel a hand on my arm and turn to see Max's questioning gaze. In the bag is a load of cash, there must be at least $10,000, "Why would there be a huge cash stash in my toilet?"

Max inspects the bag closer, looking puzzled.

 _I don't get it. This sure as hell isn't mine. Why would it be here?_

"Yet another mystery to be solved. Add it to the list," I mumble as I stash the cash, along with the key to Room 222 in my suitcase. I didn't want to be caught walking around with that in my pocket. I hear shouting coming from downstairs through my slightly ajar door. From what I can make out, there are two voices, one is really angry, the other is trying to calm the angry voice down.

 _What the hell is going on? Time to investigate._

I turn to Max, who has perched herself on the edge of my bed, "I'm just gonna go have a look what's going on. I won't be a minute."

She nods and I exit the room, making my way down to the front desk. When I get there, I see Nathan arguing with David, "Why won't you just call the police? It was stolen, I keep telling you and yet you won't do anything about it."

David's voice is strained trying to be calm, "We don't need to be hasty. Just check your room again, ok? Maybe you missed it."

Nathan throws his hands in the air in frustration, "Whatever," he storms off towards the stairs, almost bashing into me as he stomps.

I jerk my thumb behind me, "What's his problem?"

David sighs and shakes his head, "He thinks some things got stolen from his room and is demanding that I search through everyone's rooms and call the police."

 _That would not be good._

"Sounds rough."

David scratches his chin, "I hate kids like him. Think they own the place."

 _I wonder what got stolen…_

"What got lifted?" I ask, trying to sound as casual as possible.

David looks conflicted, "Some money. Why someone would carry around so much money is beyond me…" he rubs his temples, "Anyway, I don't have time for this. I've got actual stuff to worry about," with that, David skulks off back to his office.

 _Money, huh? I wonder if it's the same stuff I found in my toilet. If that is the case, I need to be careful here. If someone finds out I have that money, they'll think I stole it. I don't need a criminal record._

I turn around to leave, seeing Mark sat on the couch on the other side of the room as he scans a newspaper on the small coffee table. He shakes his head, muttering to himself.

 _I didn't even hear him there._

I go to sneak away, hoping he hasn't seen me.

"This is terrible," he mutters, then looks up and sees me. I mentally kick myself for getting caught as he smiles at me, "Good afternoon Ms. Price. Have you seen this?" he passes the paper to me. On the front page is some story about a burglary. From a quick scan, it seems that a gun and around $30,000 were stolen.

 _Glad they have nothing better to report about. Is there ever anything cheerful in the news?_

Mark has a troubled expression on his face, "I know the guy who it's happened to, Sean Prescott. I hope they can track it down soon."

 _I bet that guy is into something shady if he knows this jackass._

A thought crosses my mind. I reach into my pocket and produce the picture Joyce gave me earlier, "Oh, yeah. Would you mind signing something for me?"

His eyes flicker with a smugness that sets my teeth on edge, "Anything for a fan, however could you bring it up to my room later? I have a few things I need to attend to."

 _If I must._

"Sure."

He gets up and walks off, leaving the paper on the table. Before I head on back, I give the paper another quick look.

 _Sean Prescott… I remember this clown from my time in Arcadia. The Prescotts have a bad rep. Figures Mark would be friends with him._

I place the paper back on the table and make my way back to the stairs. When I get to the lobby, I see Joyce mopping the floor. She is blocking the way to the stairs.

"Hi Joyce."

She continues to mop the floor as she speaks to me, "Hello, Chloe. How's Max doing? Is she getting enough rest?"

 _Joyce really is worried about Max._

"Cool it, Joyce. I've got it under control," I reassure.

She sighs, "I know. I just want her to be ok, you know? Sometimes she looks so damn sad and it breaks my heart."

 _It really does make my heart sink when I see her sad. When she smiles, it's really something else. I'll get her to smile, no matter what._

I nod, "You and me both."

Joyce smiles at me.

"What?"

She shakes her heading knowingly.

 _What is she up to?_

"Seriously, what?"

Joyce goes back to mopping, "I know that look."

I raise an eyebrow in confusion, "What look?"

She glances up at me from her work, "That one you give every time someone mentions Max. There. You're doing it now," she grins, "I think someone is sweet on our young Max, and it ain't Warren."

I rub the back of my neck, not meeting her gaze, "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

Joyce gives me a skeptical glance, "Uh-huh. Sure you don't," her stare makes me squirm a bit. A moment later, the accusatory glint in her eyes thankfully vanishing, "Before I forget, have you managed to get the autograph yet?"

I shake my head, "I'm just about to. In fact, Mark just came through here."

Joyce stops mopping for a while, a confused expression on her face, "I didn't see him. He must have used the back stairs when he saw me cleaning."

 _Back stairs?_

"I didn't realize there were other stairs."

Joyce points over to a door next to the one for David's office, "It's next to David's office door, near the vending machine. It leads to another set of stairs going up to the second floor, but also to David and my room, as well as the storage room."

 _Joyce is in the middle of cleaning so I guess I shouldn't make her move._

I motion with my thumb back to the lobby, "Well, I'll use that one then."

She smiles appreciatively at me, "Thanks. That saves me moving."

I go back into the lobby and enter through the other door.

A short corridor lays before me, stairs leading up to my left. To my right I see the door to David's office. Just on from this door is another. I walk around the corner a little way further to my left. Two door sit there. After looking around for a while, I head on up the stairs to the second floor and come out at the end of the corridor, near the door to the roof.

 _Huh, what do you know? It worked._

I hear a door behind me close. It's the same door leading to the room I found Warren hiding out before. I guess it's a kind of utility closet. David steps out, a troubled expression on his face. I clear my throat, which causes him to jump a bit, "Oh, sorry I didn't see you there."

"What's up?"

He sighs, crossing his arms, "Some of my things have gone missing."

I try to keep a straight face, "Really?"

He runs his fingers through his hair, "Yes. A couple things from my office namely."

 _I'd better tread lightly here._

"That sucks."

He shakes his head, "This on top of all that crap with that kid Nathan… it's not making my job any easier. He keeps yammering on about searching rooms and calling cops. I don't want to do that, so if you see anyone acting shady, tell me."

 _Seems I'm low on the suspect list then… for once._

"I will."

He nods and makes his way down the corridor to the stairs.

 _I guess I should make sure I don't have anything incriminating on me._

I feel around in my pockets to make sure. It doesn't seem like I have anything to worry about.

 _Now it's time to go get that photo signed._

I go over to Room 215 and knock. The door opens, revealing Mark standing there, "Ms. Price. I assume you're here for the signing. Please, come in."

He steps aside, allowing me in. I enter his room, taking the photo out of my pocket and passing it to him. He takes it from me and smiles, "This takes me back. I've signed a lot of photos in my time, along with books as well. I was hoping to escape the spotlight by coming here to this hotel, but it appears one cannot escape fame, even in a rundown place like this."

 _This guy's ego is through the roof._

"I stayed here on a whim, so I had hoped no-one would find me, but there you go."

 _Why would you get a package delivered to some place you stayed at on a whim?_

He feels around in his pocket for a pen, but comes up blank, "That's odd, I always have a pen on me…"

 _Well pal, you're in luck._

I grab the pen out of my pocket and pass it over to him. He takes it and just as he is about to sign but instead gives it a weird look.

"What?"

He holds up the pen, "This is my pen. Where did you find this?"

 _This is his? No way._

"Funny."

He gives me a confused look, "How so?"

I point to the engraving, "The name engraved on the pen says Alan Parker."

Mark opens his mouth, ready to protest, then closes it. He shuts his eyes and strokes his chin in contemplation, "Alan Parker is my real name. Mark Jefferson is my professional name."

 _Something tells me this guy's full of crap._

For now, I don't say anything. Mark leans on the table and scribbles on the photo. Once he is done, he places the pen on the table and gives me the photo, "Normally it would be a lot more difficult to obtain my signature, waiting in long lines and things of that nature."

 _I'd rather have stayed at least five feet away from a creep like you to be honest._

"Now, if you'll excuse me. I shall trust you can see yourself out," with that, he enters his bathroom. I am about to leave, when I see the red binder from before, **The Secret Word Project** is written on the side.

 _Guess it couldn't hurt to peak, see what all the fuss is about._

I walk over to the small table and open the folder. Inside are some photos, a lot of atmospheric shots. One is loose. I pick it up and examine it. It's the same one I saw before of the forest.

 _Hate to admit it, but this one is pretty good._

I turn it over and see that Mark has named and dated this photo, with his "real name", Alan Parker. I place it back in the folder and am just about to close it when I notice something… odd. The inside of the front of the folder seems to be peeling a bit. I lean in closer and try to peel it back, but nothing happens. I figure I should leave before he gets out. I don't want to be in the same room as him if I don't have to be.

I exit quickly and nearly bowl straight into Victoria, "Watch where you're going," she growls at me.

 _What's wrong with the princess? She looks annoyed._

"What's your problem now?"

She scowls at me, "That blockhead David stopped me in the hall and mumbled about searching my things. He said something about a theft. Do I look like the kind of person who would steal things?" before I have time to reply, she sighs in frustration and storms off.

 _If David is doing random searches, then this is not good. I need to figure out how that cash got in my room and solve this before I get caught out. For now, I need to give Joyce her photo back. She's probably in the kitchen._

I walk down the stairs and turn into the corridor leading to the kitchen. I see Joyce standing there, busily preparing food. She looks up when I come in and I dangle the photo in the air, which makes her smile, "I knew I could count on you," she takes the photo from me and looks at the signature eagerly, "That'll be number fifty."

"Number fifty?"

Joyce nods, "I've been collecting signatures ever since I started working as a waitress. I collected my first one back in Arcadia actually," she examines the scribble closer, "He certainly has a unique style of writing, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?"

Joyce points to the 'er' of Jefferson, "The way he writes the 'er' is distinctive. It suggests the writer of this tells audacious lies and is a coward."

 _I must say I am surprised._

"Well, look at you. I never would have pinned you down as a handwriting expert, Joyce."

Joyce laughs heartily, "Honey, I'm an expert at a lot of things you wouldn't expect."

 _I wonder if Joyce would know about that name crap he was trying to pull on me._

Deciding to take a chance, I clear my throat, "He said something about Mark being his professional name and Alan being his real name."

Joyce shakes her head, "That don't sound right. I am sure his real name is Mark."

 _Well, what do you know? He's living up to his handwriting._

Joyce smiles appreciatively at me, "Anyway, thank you again. Now, I need to get back to it."

"Ok, good luck."

I turn to leave, but Joyce's voice makes me pause, "Look after, Max."

I smile at the mention of her name, "I will," I promise as I turn back and make my way to the stairs.

 _It seems our resident celebrity is a liar and coward, who'd have thought. Maybe I should go confront him about this._

I make my way back up to Room 215 and knock, hearing shuffling and footsteps on the other side of the door as it opens, Mark coming into view. He smiles smugly when he sees me, "Oh, back again so soon? I didn't expect to see you again. You must really enjoy my company."

 _You wish, buddy._

"I need to talk."

He steps aside and lets me in, "What about?"

I enter his room and immediately begin to interrogation, "I'll cut to the chase, I know you're lying."

His eyes widen ever so slightly, "What do you mean?"

 _Still trying to play innocent. Well I won't give up that easily._

"Your name isn't Alan any more than mine is."

He seems taken aback by my accusation, "I…"

 _Keep pushing. I can't back off for a second or he'll shut me down._

"So, who is Alan?"

He smiles, but I can tell it's strained, "I'm Alan."

I scoff, "Why can't you just admit it?"

His voice raises in volume and his eyes show a glint of anger, "Because there is _**nothing**_ to admit!"

 _It seems I'm getting somewhere now._

"That touched a nerve," he clears his throat, composing himself as I press on, "Why would you get your own photos delivered to you at a hotel you "stayed at on a whim"?

He looks down at his feet for a moment, trying to worm his way out of my interrogations, "Well…I…" his voice is no longer confident, he stutters slightly.

 _I have you now._

"Who mailed you the folder?"

His face darkens and his tone becomes more threatening, "I suggest you leave now, Ms Price."

 _Oh no. not now._

"Ok, I will, if you do something."

"What is that?"

I thrust a random scrap of paper at him I found in my pocket, "Sign this."

He grimaces at me, "You've already had one signature today. Is that not enough?"

 _I don't have time to play these games._

"Just do it," I persist, "and use your real name."

He doesn't look too happy, but he does it anyway and hands it back over to me, "There."

I motion my head towards the red binder, "Now take that forest photo out."

This really does confuse him, "What?"

"Just do it," I order. He reluctantly grabs the photo and hands it to me. I turn it over and compare the two handwritings seeing that there is no way they are the same, "Who wrote on this photo?"

He hesitates slightly before answering, "I did."

 _Wrong answer._

"No, you didn't. You don't do your 'er' like that," I point it out for him, refusing to relent my attack. His eyes shift through several different emotions, worry, anger, annoyance and finally panic.

 _I've got him by the balls now._

He furrows his brow and lets out a shuddery breath, "Who sent you?"

 _Ok, this is not what I was expecting._

It's my turn to be confused now, "What?"

He is shaking with rage now, "Was it that Dan? Huh? Don't you think you have gotten enough out of me?"

 _Is he high?_

"I literally have no idea what you're talking about."

His face relaxes a bit, "Really?"

I nod, "Yes. I wasn't sent by anyone. Look, what's going on here?"

He sighs, "Well, I suppose it would be foolish to try and hide my past," he adjusts his glasses and begins to reveal his story, "It was about a year ago now. I was just starting out on my photography career, but I was finding it hard to get inspiration and work. I had nearly given up when I met Alan. He had such talent and a fever for taking pictures. One day he told me he was going to submit a project into a competition, that it could kick start his career. He gave them to me to look over. I suppose he wanted to share the experience in a way, get some support. He was so proud of himself. I was overtaken by jealousy," he grits his teeth and clenches his fist, "Anyway, a thought crossed my mind. What if I had taken those photos? What if I submitted them? What if I won? So, I mailed them off and they won. Shortly after, Alan disappeared. I never saw him again. Someone found out and has been blackmailing me," he points to the binder, "This is the binder which contains all the original photos. You have no idea how much I have forfeited to obtain these. I had hoped I would see Alan in this hotel actually. He came here a few times and I remember him telling me once it was a special place to him," he pushes his glasses up his nose, "I have been living with this secret for a whole year and I am tired of keeping it. I plan to reveal it publically to find Alan, then maybe I can make amends with him."

 _Well, that isn't quite what I was expecting._

He turns his gaze to me, looking defeated, "Don't you have anything to say?"

 _I wouldn't give him the satisfaction._

I shake my head at him, "Not really," with that I turn, leaving a slightly stunned Mark Jefferson in my wake and make my way back to my room.

 _That was pretty intense. To be honest I was expecting something a little darker and tortured from him. I'm sure he has a few other skeletons in his closet… maybe I won't go actively searching though._

I place my hand on the door knob and enter my room. Max is sat on the edge of my bed. When she hears me coming in she squints at me, crossing her arms and pouting.

 _I was gone for a pretty long time. I said I wasn't going to be a minute._

I rub the back of my neck and smile apologetically at her, "Sorry Max. I didn't mean to take so long," Max turns her head, but I can see her face is strained slightly trying not to smile. I play along, going down on my hands and knees, my hands clasped together and look up at her pleadingly, "Oh Mighty Max, please forgive me for this grave error," she continues to keep up her mock anger, but her face is starting to crack up.

 _I have an idea._

I dart over to the bed, jumping on it and nearly catapult Max off of the bed. She grips onto the sheets to keep herself steady. Before she has the chance to scramble away, I begin to tickle her. She squirms under my touch, pushing my head back slightly to try and stop me, but it doesn't work. She tries so hard not to smile.

"If you give in, then I'll stop," Max shakes her head in response, "Ok then," I go back to tickling her more mercilessly than before. Eventually, she grabs onto my arm and squeezes lightly, a gesture I assume means that she is giving up. I relent and get off her to let her up, kneeling on the bed and smirking, "See now, that wasn't so hard w-"

My words are cut off as Max presses her lips against mine gently. They linger for a second, before she pulls back. My brain races, trying to process what just happened. My eyes widen with shock as my brain finally catches up with what my eyes saw, my mouth opens slightly. I look over to Max, who seems as shocked as I am with her impulsive action. She places her hand on her lips, her blue eyes stare at me with uncertainty. She bites her lip and furrows her brow slightly, looking down at her hands as she plays with the bands on her wrist.

 _Did… did that just happen?_

I open my mouth to say something… anything… but my words get caught in my throat as my heart races.

 _Come on Chloe, say something. She's obviously anxious._

I try to talk, but I really can't, Max continues to avoid eye contact. I reach out my hand tentatively and place it on her cheek, making her lift her head up. She seems confused at first, but then a small smile creeps onto her face when she sees me leaning into her, testing the waters. She meets me halfway, placing her lips on mine and gently moves them. I tenderly kiss her back, her lips feeling slightly chapped against mine and she trembles at my touch. The kiss is short, but sweet.

I pull away, feeling giddy and light headed as I rest my forehead against hers and gaze deeply into her eyes, my voice husky, "Was that… was that ok?"

Max offers me a small lop-sided dorky smile, her blue eyes glistening. I find myself smiling in response, a wider smile than I have managed in a long time, "I'll take that as a yes then."

She nods and I feel Max's hand brush tentatively against mine. I shake my head and take her hand in mine, interweaving our fingers. She sighs contently, her breath warm against my skin. I go to lean in again… when my phone rings in my pocket. I choose to ignore it, capturing her lips again. I get lost in the moment, only focusing on Max as I surrender myself to the tenderness. The buzzing in my pocket stops.

 _Finally…_

We only have a moments silence before it starts up again, its persistent ringing breaking through the moment we have created. After a few seconds of trying to ignore it, I sigh looking into her eyes.

"Some people don't give up, huh?" Max nods, her intense gaze causing me to falter and almost lose myself to them, "I'd, uh, better take this."

She pecks me briefly on the lips then pulls away much to my disappointment. I take a moment to observe her as she lays back on the left hand side of the bed. She catches me staring at her and blushes slightly, her awkward shyness causing my own cheeks to heat up and a dorky grin to form on my lips. I turn my head to hide the oncoming blush and answer finally my phone.

* * *

 **I must say I thoroughly enjoyed that and I hope you did too. Until next time.**


	8. Promises and Secrets

**Hey guys. I'm finally back with the story. I have more time to write now, so I'll be updating more regularly across all stories. Here is the next chapter for you.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven: Promises and Secrets**

 **8:00 - 9:00 P.M.**

Kate's joyful voice filters from the other end of the line, **"Chloe, I have that information about that painting you wanted."**

 _As expected of Kate, she gets things done._

"Right down to business, huh? Hit me with it," I quip as I begin pacing the length of my room towards the window.

" **There is surprisingly little information on the painter, but I'll share what I found. Osterzone was born in England in 1875 and died in 1910 at the age of 35. Forty years after his death, ten of his paintings turn up, the most valuable of which being Angel Opening a Door."**

 _That's the painting Jefferson was on about before._

Kate clears her throat and continues, **"This particular painting was stolen from Travis Art Museum about six months ago."**

 _That would have been when Nile took it for their art insurance fraud scheme. Then of course Danny, Warren's pal, tried to steal it from Nile's warehouse and got himself killed by Rachel. Why Rachel?_

I scratch my head, "Interesting."

" **I wouldn't have pinned you down as the art loving type, Chloe,"** she sounds mildly amused at my sudden interest in art, not that I can blame her skepticism.

"You'd be right there," I agree, knowing that normally I wouldn't care about some old painting, "but this particular painting has captured my interest."

" **I sense a story there,"** Kate coaxes.

I glance over at Max who is now sat on my bed. When she catches me staring, she blushes and dorkily grins at me. I feel a smile tug at the corner of my lips as I look at her and wave with my free hand, which causes her smile to widen. Her doe-like blue eyes are trained on me as I rub the back of my neck.

"It's… related to an old case I was working on before I left the Force. A mystery I've never been able to crack."

I hear a gentle chuckle, **"Cryptic as always I see,"** Kate pauses for a moment before continuing, **"Well, I hope that you find the answers you're looking for. If there is anything else you need, just give me a call."**

"Sure."

Just before I hang up, I hear her call out again, **"And Chloe, please look after yourself."**

A smile tugs at my lips at Kate's concern, "I promise."

I hang up and make my way over back to the bed where Max is sat. I flop down on it, laying on my back and staring up at the discolored ceiling. Max shuffles closer to me and lays down on her right side, resting her head lightly on my shoulder as she clings onto my Red Crown jacket with her left hand. I place a hand over hers, squeezing it gently.

 _Where is all this leading me to? So many connections just waiting to be linked up._

I turn to Max, "Things are getting interesting, huh?"

She nods, shuffling closer to me. We lay there in silence for a while as I run over everything in my head, trying to make sense of it all. I glance over to Max to find her staring back up at me.

 _Who is this girl? Where did she come from? Why is she here? So many questions with no answers…_

An idea crosses my mind, one that should help me answer some of these questions running through my mind.

"Max, can you try something for me?"

She nods in agreement. I carefully untangle myself from her and sit up, taking out my notebook along with a pen. I hold them out for Max and after a moment she takes the book and pen from me, looking a bit confused.

"I have some questions for you and I thought it would be easier for you to talk by writing down the answers."

Max tilts her head curiously as she stares at the small notebook in her hands, then nods. My eyes fall on the black and blue bracelet with the engraved silver plate on her right wrist. I hesitantly reach out and take a hold of her wrist, turning her arm over to inspect it from all angles. My finger brush lightly over the familiar bracelet…

* * *

 _ **Rachel and I stumble back into the flat in a drunken stupor and flop down on the bed. The moment we finished work today, we headed straight for the bar and proceeded to get completely wasted. It had been a rough day for both of us, full of endless paperwork and mind crushing headaches. It wasn't always high speed car chases, busting big profile criminal masterminds and earning shiny medals for heroic actions with big parades in your honor. In fact, most of the time it was thankless work where you were more likely to get hauled up before the chief for being caught resting your eyes for a second than getting a pat on the back.**_

" _ **Man, what a day," Rachel mumbles, her words coming out slurred from the alcohol.**_

" _ **You can say that again," I sigh deeply, rubbing my temples to alleviate the insistent throbbing.**_

 _ **I exhale deeply and glance over to Rachel, who has closed her eyes. Her cheeks are flushed and her body relaxed, now free from all the tension that had built up over the day. My eyes fall on the bracelet tied to her wrist. I don't think I'd ever seen Rachel without it before. I turn to her and tap her on the shoulder to get her attention. She glances over at me, her hazel eyes bleary and unfocused.**_

" _ **You really seem to like that bracelet, huh?" I observe.**_

 _ **She grins sleepily at me, "Of course, someone special gave it to me a long time ago."**_

 _ **She doesn't offer any more explanation than that, not that I had expected her to.**_

" _ **Cryptic as always I see."**_

 _ **Rachel shuffles over to me and places her arm over my waist, nuzzling into my neck as she slowly falls into the world of dreams. Just before she loses consciousness, she breathes against my skin, "We all have our secrets, Priceless."**_

* * *

The bittersweet memory washes over me, filling my mind with her voice.

 _You just seemed to have way more secrets than I thought, Rach._

I shake myself back to reality and continue, "Who gave you this bracelet?"

Max's brow furrows slightly as she scribbles down an answer on an empty lined page. After she has finished, she shows me the page.

 **I can't remember. Whenever I try my mind goes all hazy.**

 _Why did I think it would be that easy?_

Max hunches over the notebook and writes something else down. She passes it back over to me, her blue eyes filled with mild curiosity.

 **Why do you ask?**

I bite the inside of my lip and look at the bracelet again, "Because Rachel has a very similar bracelet to this one," I sigh, rubbing the back of my neck, "I just… want some answers from her and maybe… I miss her too. Even after knowing what she did to all of us, I still want to see her again. Maybe that is a stupid thing to want."

Max shakes her head and quickly writes something down in her soft rounded handwriting, then places a hand reassuringly on my shoulder.

 **No. It's not at all. We all want some closure and Rachel meant a lot to you, so it's understandable that you'd want to see her again.**

Just as I'm about to reply to her, there is a short sharp knock on my door which interrupts the conversation. I jab towards the door with my thumb, "I'd better go get that."

Max offers me a warm smile as I get up and make my way over to the door. When I open it, I find Melissa standing there with the doll from earlier clasped tightly in her hands.

I place a hand on her head and gently ruffle her hair, "Hey squirt, what's up?"

She holds out her doll towards me along with a small wing-shaped piece of fabric, "One of the wings fell off my doll and I was wondering if you could fix it."

I take the doll from her and turn it over. The place where the wing had been attached is obvious and it looks like a fairly clean break. Melissa looks up at me, her eyes pleading with me to help her.

"I can try, I guess. I'm not the best at this, but I'll give it a shot."

She beams up at me, "Thanks."

I step aside to let her in my room. She makes a b-line for the bed and jumps on the bed beside Max and begins chatting away animatedly, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed. Max takes it in her stride and uses the notebook to talk with her. I take a moment to observe them before getting to work on fixing Melissa's doll. I remember that I have a mini portable sewing machine in the items Red Crown sent me. I rummage through the cardboard box from earlier and locate the machine. I sit down beside Melissa and concentrate. After a few moments, the wing has been firmly re-attached.

"There you go, kid," I say as I hand the doll back over to Melissa.

She grins at me appreciatively as she hugs the doll close to her chest, "Thank you," she raises an eyebrow curiously at me, "Hey, are you friends with the guy from 217?"

My brow furrows in confusion at her seemingly random question, "Nathan? Hell no. Why?"

Melissa plays with the dolls arms, "I saw him coming out of your room earlier so thought you had been talking or something."

 _Nathan was in my room, huh? Interesting._

"Did you now? Maybe it's time I have a chat with Nathan then," I mention, exchanging a brief glance with Max.

Melissa shuffles off the bed and turns to face us, "Well, I should get back now before dad finds out I left the room. See ya."

Max and I wave her off as she leaves my room with the doll in her arms. I scratch my head at the information Melissa had just imparted on us, "Well, well. Why am I not surprised? So Nathan must have been the one who hid that cash in my toilet."

Max nods in agreement, her expression troubled.

"We should go confront him now," I state, standing up off the bed and offer Max a hand. She takes it and I pull her up, then we make our way to Room 217 hand in hand as out arms gently sway. I knock on the door with my free hand, but get no reply. I bash on it a few more times impatiently, still getting no response.

"Either he's not in or he's ignoring me," I mumble under my breath.

A familiar voice calls from behind, "Yo, Price," I turn back to see Warren approaching us with a wide grin on his face, "What's up with you guys?"

 _Maybe Warren has seen Nathan recently. It's worth a shot._

When he finally stops in front of us, I ask, "Have you seen Nathan anywhere?"

Warren's face crumples up in thought as he strokes his chin, "Last I saw, he was hanging around the Laundry Room, which was weird because that place is for staff only. He ran away as soon as I tried to talk to him about it."

 _More suspicious behavior from him. What is his deal?_

"You don't say."

 _Maybe it's time to check out the Laundry Room._

I jerk my head towards the stairwell, "I'm going to go check it out, you want to come?"

He beams at me excitedly, "You bet I do. I want to see you at work again."

The three of us make our way down the stairs to the left hallway leading off from the central hallway where Warren's room is. We walk down it and turn into the first door on our right into the Laundry Room. The room itself is small, washing machines lining the walls and a large linen cart sits in the nearest right hand corner to the door.

"I'm going to go search over there," Warren points off into the far left hand corner.

"Sure, we'll cover the other half of the room then. If you find anything, just give me a shout."

While Warren begins opening up the washing machines, Max and I head over to the linen cart. I peer inside, seeing it full of crumpled up sheets.

 _If I was going to hide something here would probably be the easiest spot._

I dig around, taking out all the sheets and throwing them to the floor as Max searches the wooden shelves mounted on the wall next to me. When I've emptied it completely, I just find the bottom of the cart. Feeling a bit disappointed, I go to turn away when something strange catches my eye. Something about the back flap of the inside of the cart is off. It doesn't line up with the others and is pulled out a bit. I reach inside and lift the loose material up, my eyes widening when a small pistol comes into view.

 _Guess someone didn't like the room service._

I check to see if the pistol is armed, thankfully finding it empty.

"Yo, Warren, Max. Look what I found."

They turn to face me as I hold up the pistol so they can see it. Max's brow furrows in concern and Warren's eyes widen as they fall on the gun, "What the hell is that doing here?"

I look over the cold hard metal piece, turning it over in my hands. I've held a few guns in my time thanks to the nature of my job. From a quick inspection, I find out it's a Desert Eagle .50 caliber pistol, one that had been a choice weapon for some of the crooks Rachel and I had faced in the past. I place the gun down on one of the washing machines and we all gather around it, "I think the more important question is who did it."

Warren scratches his head as he looks down at the out-of-place weapon, "Well, Joyce hasn't been in here today and you know I avoid laundry like the plague… it must have been Nathan. He's the only one who's been acting all suspicious around here recently."

I pat him on the back, "Have to say I'm impressed with your skills of deduction, Warren. Maybe you would've made a good detective."

He narrows his eyes suspiciously at me, "I can't tell if you're being sarcastic or not."

I hold my hands up and smile innocently, "Would I make fun of you?"

He raises his eyebrows skeptically at me, "Uh-huh, sure you wouldn't."

I glance over to Max, who is still staring down at the gun on the side. Her expression is worried and a bit afraid. I stride over to her and wrap an arm around her shoulder, "You ok?"

Max leans her head on my shoulder and shrugs. The gun seems to be making her feel uneasy, not that I blame her. I've seen them in action enough times to know how dangerous they are and had been on both ends of the barrel. I have seen the aftermath of the devastation they could cause and the lives they could ruin and take for no reason.

"It's weird to think that this thing can cause so much pain and suffering, huh?" I whisper in a hushed tone as I stare down at the gun. Max nods in response as she lifts her head from my shoulder.

I take a step back from the gun and run my fingers through my faded blue hair, "I think he hid that money he was claiming had been stolen in my room's toilet," I theorize.

Warren nods, "He's been driving David crazy with that, insisting that he check all the rooms and call the cops. So, he's trying to set you up. Why?"

I think over everything I knew so far to try and come up with an answer, but draw a blank, "That's what I need to find out. I just need more evidence before I confront him."

Warren goes quiet for a few moments, rubbing his face with his hand as he paces around the room before turning back to Max and I, "You know, you could… get in his room and have a snoop around."

I lean against one of the washing machines, "Are you suggesting we break in? Because if you are, then I'm in."

He chuckles heartily as he shakes his head at me, "You sure you were a detective and not really an evil mastermind, Price?"

I smirk at him in mild amusement, "There is a fine line."

He scratches his chin, "How about I create a distraction to lure him out of his room. Then while he's away, you can get into detective mode and search his room."

"What did you have in mind?" I ask, curious to see what Warren would come up with.

He drums his fingers against his leg, "Maybe I can make some noise in the room next door. He's bound to come and check it out, then you use that opportunity to slip into his room. Then I can keep him busy for a while after that."

I think over his plan and shrug, "I've heard worse plans. I'll wait in Room 222 because it's nearer to Nathan's room."

Warren nods, "Great, let's go."

We leave the Laundry Room taking the gun along with us and get up to the second floor where all the rooms are. Before I get into position, I grab the money from my room so I'm ready to confront Nathan as soon as I've found the evidence I need and headed on to Room 222 with Max.

"This reminds me off a couple of stake out missions and drug raids I did with Rachel," I comment while we wait for Warren's signal, "When I first started out, I was so impatient and nearly busted the whole thing because of it," I chuckle at my younger self.

I had changed a lot since I first joined the Force. Rachel and I signed up at the same time and ended up moving our way through the ranks pretty quickly. Rachel had the ambition and I was willing to do whatever it took to get the job done. We were both good at connecting the dots and solved a number of seemingly impossible cases. When our backs were pushed against the wall, Rachel could talk us out of almost any situation and if that failed I would use my destructive behavior to force our way through. We were a formidable team.

 **CRASH. SLAM. BASH.**

The loud noises bring me out of my thought as someone cries out, "HELP! SOMEBODY! HELP! HEEEEEEEEEEEEELP!"

I facepalm and mutter under my breath, "Way to be subtle, Warren."

A door creaks open in the corridor and footsteps stomp over in the direction of Warren's distressed shouts. I peer my head out into the corridor to catch Nathan entering the room next to him and pull Max along to Room 217, finding it slightly ajar. Taking one last quick look around to make sure no-one was watching, we slip inside and begin our search. Again, Nathan's room is similar to mine, except there is a couch sat near the wall opposite the door. On the couch is a backpack. I stride over and take a look inside it, the metallic glint of a key poking through. I swipe it and examine the keychain attached to it, **Room 219 Master**

 _Odd. Why would he have the master key to my room?_

The red jacket he was wearing earlier is hung up on a mounted wooden shelf with pegs. I pat down the pockets and find an ID card, on it reads **Nathan Prescott.**

 _So, he lied about his last name. Things keep getting more and more suspicious by the second._

I shove the ID card in my pocket and then something hits me.

 _Wait… wasn't the name of the guy in the lobby newspaper called Sean Prescott? What got stolen again? Money and… a gun._

My hand instinctively reaches for the gun tuck away in the inner pocket of my Red Crown jacket.

 _It can't be a coincidence._

Before we have the chance to explore further, the door behind us creaks open and Nathan walks into the room. When he sees us, his eyes widen in shock and then his brow furrows in anger, "What are you doing in my room?" he snarls aggressively.

Max cowers at his tone and grips on tight to my arm. She seems to hate confrontation, not that I really do either. I offer her a reassuring smile before turning back to Nathan, "Oh, this is _**your**_ room. My mistake, I thought it was the kitchen. Isn't Joyce somewhere around here?"

Nathan's jaw clenches at my mockery, "You'd better get out before I call David."

I shake my head at him, "I don't think you'll want to be doing that."

He narrows his eyes suspiciously at me, "What do you mean?"

It appears that I have caught his attention, his expression mildly worried at what I'm getting at.

 _Now is my chance to interrogate him._

I shrug, shoving my hands in my pockets, "Just a feeling I got. Besides, we're just having a friendly chat. There's no need to get so defensive."

I stand in front of him, drawing myself to my fullest height to get some control over the situation. I'm a couple of inches taller than he is, as with most people I come across. I meet his icy blue eyes without fear. Rachel and I have had to deal with people way more threatening and dangerous than this guy. He thinks he's tough and invincible, a real big shot, but I'd seen plenty of people like him before. Really he's just a spoiled kid who ends up causing unnecessary and sometimes fatal trouble for those around him.

"I have a few questions to ask you," I press, determined to get him talking.

He scowls at me, "Maybe I don't want to answer them."

 _He thinks this will stop me from finding out the truth. Well, he has another thing coming._

I glance down at Max, who seems to have relaxed a bit. She still clutches onto my arm as I continue, "I see. Fine. I'll just bypass you and go straight to David then. I'm sure he'll love hearing about how you broke into my room."

A flash of worry flickers across his eyes for a second, betraying his otherwise secretive behavior, "What are you talking about?"

I scoff at his attempts to deny he knows anything, "Don't play dumb with me. I know you went into my room. I have a witness who saw you do it and you have the master key to my room in your bag. There is no way you would need that, unless you were trying to get into my room without me knowing."

Nathan's mouth opens to say something, "That's…" his sentence trails off and he looks down at the floor.

I refuse to relent in my interrogation, "Why'd you do it, huh? Why hide that money in my toilet? Who even carries that much dough around in a hellhole like this… unless they're on the run?" he doesn't answer, his hands balling up into fists as he shakes with anger, "Don't want to talk about that, huh? Well that's ok. I have a lot more to ask. Why'd you hide that gun in the Laundry Room?"

He glares at me, his voice strained as he tries to keep calm, "I don't know anything about a gun."

I brush a stray strand of hair out of my face, "Really? So you weren't hanging around the Laundry Room earlier, which I might add is a Staff restricted area."

"No!" he growls through gritted teeth.

 _Got you._

I smirk smugly at him, "Funny, Warren seems to recall you were there."

Nathan lets out a short twisted laugh, "What, you're going to trust that guy's account?"

"I believe him over you and while we're at it, why did you lie about your last name?"

His brow furrows in annoyance, "I didn't."

"But you did. Your ID card proves it," I take it out of my pocket and show it to him.

After a moment of silence, he sighs resignedly, "Yeah, I lied about my last name," he finally admits, "So what? Is that a crime now?"

I almost have to laugh at his attempts to throw me off the track, "No, but stealing is."

"What?!" he exclaims a bit too loudly, which only serves to incriminate him further. He seems to realize this all too late as he mutters to himself.

I don't give him the chance to regroup, "I saw a newspaper article today, one that mentioned a robbery. A man had $30,000 and a gun stolen from him. His name was Sean Prescott. Seems like an odd coincidence that's your last name to and that you were hiding it," Nathan doesn't say a word against my accusations, "Run out of excuses, huh? You rich kids are all the same, thinking that money is nothing and that guns are just something you can play around with to rebel against your parents. Did you think I'd just roll over and take the fall? You need to grow up."

Nathan's voice comes out low and mumbled, "Grow up… like I haven't heard that one before. You sound just like him."

His cryptic comment peaks my curiosity, "Who?"

He grimaces, "My dad. He's an arrogant scumbag who thinks he's right about everything."

I sense that he is about to spill his story, so I keep my mouth shut and wait for him to continue.

He shakes his head, "Well, I wanted to show him that he didn't, to teach him a lesson. So I grabbed his gun along with the money from his safe and ran. He knew it was me who stole from him and he still called the cops. He'll claim he's doing this for my own good, but this is just for his stupid pride," he pauses, then looks up. The anger in his eyes is no longer directed at me like before, "You want to know what kind of person my dad is? He's a defense lawyer, but not just any lawyer. The best. A genius in getting crooks off the hook. He doesn't care what you've done, kidnapping, sure. Fraud, you got it. Murder, he's your man. He'll defend you as long as you can pay," his face crumples up in irritation as he continues, "He especially deals in organized crime. Right now he's working for a bunch of lowlifes called Nile or something."

My eyes widen a bit in shock at the mention of Nile, "How'd you find out all this?"

Nathan sighs, "He brought people over and I… overheard what they were talking about."

"What are you going to do now?" I ask, wondering what he had planned next.

He runs his fingers tiredly through his blonde hair, "My father expects me to come crawling back home with my tail between my legs, but I won't do that. Not anymore. I was expecting David to call the cops, that they'd see through my story and then they'd arrest me. That would cause my father all sorts of trouble. The press would ask why I did it and I'd tell them everything."

I shake my head at his naïve stupidity, "Do you want to get yourself and your dad killed?"

He seems taken aback by my question, "What?"

Nile wouldn't let something like this go easily. If Nathan publically revealed his dad's connection to Nile, then they'd probably off them both without a seconds thought. Nile were not renowned for their forgiveness.

"What do you think Nile will do if your dad gets exposed?" I throw the gun, the money and the ID down on the small coffee table in the middle of the room, "Go home."

He stares down at the table then back up to me with an almost lost expression, "But… what do I do then?"

In this state he's very susceptible to suggestions, so what I say here could change everything for him. It's the same look I've seen a hundred times in the interrogation room when a culprit is cornered with no hope of escape.

"If you want your dad to change, you change first. Stop depending on him and stand on your own two feet," with that Max and I leave Room 217 and head on back to my room.

 _Well, that was eventful. I can't seem to escape Nile. Wherever I go, they are always hanging over my head._

When we get back to my room, I perch myself on the edge of my bed and think over everything I had learned so far. Max quietly joins my side.

 _So much has happened since I've arrived here. I should review the important information._

I take out my notebook and flick to a clean page, "Max, can you give me a hand here. I want to review all the stuff we've learned so far."

She places a hand over mine and offers me a warm smile.

 _At least she's here with me. It helps a lot._

I place the pen to the paper and begin to brainstorm, "Let's start with the easy ones first, Nathan stole from his dad to expose his connections with Nile," Max nods in agreement as I write it down, "Jefferson stole his buddies work and pawned it off as his own to make it big in the photography world."

 _Now for the remaining mysteries._

"Then we've got Melissa. Her mom goes missing for some unknown reason and Kevin, her father, came here to look for her."

My mind wonders back to Melissa's situation and my heart feels heavy in my chest. While she was a bit of a pain at first, she'd calmed down a lot since the first time I'd met her. In a lot of ways, she reminded me of myself.

I shake my head and get back to the crux of the matter, "Rachel, aka J, was working for Nile, a crime ring that specializes in art insurance fraud. Warren's friend, Danny, wanted to steal a famous painting from Nile, Angel Opening a Door painted by a guy named Osterzone, a plan Rachel concocted which ultimately got him killed. That was around six months ago. I heard about her betrayal and… shot her. She fell of the cliff into the water in Arcadia Bay. That was the 23rd April 2013," at the thought of Rachel, my face falls and a pang of guilt entered the pit of my stomach, "She then came to Hotel Dusk a month ago and stayed in Room 222 using my name. Why?"

 _Rachel… what the hell are you up to?_

I turn to Max, "Then… there's you. The complete mystery who just turns up out of the blue with little to no memory of why you're here or what you're supposed to be doing next," Max seems a bit put out by my summary. I place a hand on her cheek and lift her head up to face me, "We'll find out… somehow. I promise."

 _I have to believe that. If I don't… then who will?_

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I shall see you next time. Have an awesome day.**


	9. 100 Percent Punk Rock

**Hey guys, welcome back. Here is the next chapter for you.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight: 100% Punk Rock**

 **9:00 – 10:00 P. M.**

I glance down at my watch, seeing that it is nine.

 _Didn't Warren say the bar was open now? I should go investigate._

Before I have the chance to suggest this to Max, my phone rings yet again. When I answer it, **a** gruff voice comes from the other line, **"Price, give me an update."**

"Hello to you to, Frank," I sigh deeply at his curtness.

 _He certainly is a man of few words._

" **I don't have time for chit chat,"** Frank grumbles irritably, **"Just get to it."**

"Well, Warren and I had a chat about his pal Danny. He wasn't involved in the murder and didn't run off with the cash from Danny's little art theft scheme either," I explain.

" **So, who killed him then?"** Frank asks impatiently.

My heart sinks when I answer, "…Rachel."

Frank is unable to keep the surprise from his voice, **"What?!"**

"Seems she was working for Nile under the name J," I clarify as a lump begins forming in my throat, "She bunked him off and then bailed with Nile's stolen painting and some of their money too. That was six months ago. That's according to Warren anyway. He can't lie to save his life, so I believe him."

" **Makes sense. Keep going,"** Frank demanded.

My face must have shown my distress at discussing Rachel like this, because Max reaches over and places a reassuring hand on my knee. I offer her an appreciative smile and intertwine our fingers before continuing, "I told Warren I was still on the hunt for Rachel. He put two and two together and told me everything. He said he'd help me look."

" **Hmm…"** he grunts contemplatively, **"not a team I was ever expecting to come together, an ex-cop and an ex-pickpocket."**

"You're telling me. There's more though," I take Frank's silence as my cue to keep going, "A girl using my name stayed at Hotel Dusk around a month ago. I searched the room and found a lighter… Rachel's lighter."

He remains silent for a few seconds, thinking over this new information, **"Tell me something. Why are you still chasing her ghost?"**

"She's no ghost," I protest.

" **You hate her, right?"** Frank proposes, **"She double crosses you and the world gets a bit darker and colder than before. You chase her down and put a bullet through her. When a body doesn't turn up, you think she might have gotten away and want to make sure,"** he pauses for a moment to gather his thoughts before sighing resignedly, **"Hate like that can eat you alive, Price."**

 _Frank has every reason to suspect that, but it never was hate that she felt towards Rachel. Anger yes, disappointment for sure, but hate…_

I shake my head at his assumption, "It's not hate, Frank. I just… need to know why she did this."

" **So you want answers. I get that,"** he says sympathetically.

Frank had experienced much in his time, he used to be a detective himself after all. He knows better than anyone around here what I'm feeling. Betrayals and double crossings weren't as uncommon as you'd think, especially in areas such as the police force.

My brow furrows slightly at this thought, "I just have this feeling that something in this place is going to lead me to Rachel. There are too many coincidences coming up."

Frank is silent for a long moment and for a while I wonder if he's gone, but then he speaks up once more, **"You can have one night to follow this up, Price. If you come up blank by tomorrow morning, I expect you back here. Understood?"**

"Yes. Thanks, Frank."

" **Don't mention it,"** he mutters dismissively, **"Before I forget, those items I asked you to find, I might need you to hand them over directly to the client."**

"Gotcha."

" **I'll phone you later,"** he mentions before hanging up. I shove my phone back in my pocket and run my fingers through my faded blue hair, sighing heavily.

 _Things are starting to get interesting around here. I swear, I will find you Rachel._

I glance over to Max, who is staring at me with those soft blue doe-like eyes. I bring her hand to my lips and kiss the back of it, "How about we go to the bar now? I could do with a drink after all this."

Max nods in agreement, offering up a small smile as we head on out of my room hand in hand, down the stairs and push through the double doors at the end of the central hallway. At the end of the hall, instead of turning left to the restaurant, we keep going straight through to the bar. When we get inside, I can see a wooden counter covering about half of the small room, with red cushioned wooden barstool lining it. Behind the bar are shelves full of various alcohol, some I have never even heard of. A retro jukebox sits in the opposite right hand corner.

Warren stands there behind the bar and smiles when he sees us, "Price, Max! Glad to see you could make it."

"I prefer my bar staff to be prettier, but I guess you'll do," I lightly tease as Max ad I take a seat at the bar.

"Ouch, that hurts my feelings," Warren chuckles as he leans on the dark wooden counter.

"Let's hope you can tend the bar better than you deliver packages," I wryly remark.

He gives me an unamused look, "Oh, is it pick on Warren day today? Wait, that's all the time," he shifts his weight over to his left side as he glances over his shoulder at the well-stocked bar, "Unlike with the other stuff David has me doing, I actually enjoy the bar work. So, yes I can."

"I'll believe _that_ when I see it," I comment challengingly.

"What's your poison?" he asks.

I stroke my chin in contemplation before answering, "A bourbon, make it a double."

He nods in approval, then turns to Max with a smile, "What about you, Max? You want a drink too?"

Her face scrunches up a bit as she looks over to the various bottles of alcohol sat behind the bar, which makes me chuckle, "That is so damn cute. How about a soda instead?"

She nods eagerly at my suggestion with Warren turning back, "Ok, one bourbon and one soda coming right up," after a few moments he turns back with two glasses, one filled with a deep amber liquid and the other a light fizzy orange liquid, both have ice in them, "Here you guys go, these are on me."

"Thanks, Warren," I say as I take the glass and pretty much down half of it in one. I feel the burn as the liquid passes down my throat. It's moments like this that remind me of mine and Rachel's stupid drinking contests where we got so drunk that we passed out at the bar and woke up the next morning with pounding headache, usually just before we had to go to work of course. I wonder how we actually functioned sometimes.

"Oh yeah, before I forget," he points over to the jukebox in the corner, "feel free to choose a song. It's 100% free to use."

At this, Max perks right up and makes her way over to the jukebox, flicking through the songs with an almost childlike fascination. Something about her behavior never ceases to make me feel at peace, especially when she's happy like this.

"And another thing," he begins as he puts a bottle back up on the shelf, "I was thinking about that other Chloe Price who stayed here a month ago."

"Yeah?" I prompt, wondering what words of wisdom Warren has for me.

He leans in closer, even though no-one else is here, and whispers, "Me and Joyce were out around that time, which was totally weird. David hardly ever gives us time off and then he just up and says we can both have the day off. That's strange, right?"

 _Interesting._

"So, David was the only person to see our mystery woman," I thoughtfully observe.

"That's right," he agrees, "Hey, how about I show David that picture of Rachel. I'm sure it'll get a reaction from him at the very least."

I drain the remainder of my drink and slam the glass back on the counter, "Sounds like a plan."

Warren winces at the loud thud, "Yo, watch it. Those glasses aren't cheap. David will bust my ass if another one gets broken," he exhales deeply as he runs his fingers through his hair, "Anyway, why would Rachel stay here of all places? It doesn't make sense."

 _I've been thinking this over ever since finding out that Rachel stayed here, but just can't think why. If she was one the run from both the police and Nile, why the hell would she risk coming somewhere like this dump?_

I sigh as I prop my head on my hands, "Who knows, Warren? That's what I'm hoping to find out."

"Let's hope so," he replies as he takes my now empty glass from the counter. Just then, the door behind us creaks open. When I turn back I see Helen, the older woman from earlier. As Warren takes her order, Max returns to the seat beside me with a satisfied expression on her face.

"Have fun over there?" I ask as I notice strumming and haunting lyrics quietly playing in the background. She beams at me with a dorky grin and squeezes my hand.

 _I can't get over how damn cute she is. It's almost too much for me to handle._

I lean over, place a light kiss on her cheek then whisper in her ear, "Who gave you the right to be so adorable, huh?" when I lean back a bit, I smirk in amusement as I notice the light pink blush forming on her cheeks and gently nudge her on the shoulder, "Aw, did I make Max blu-?"

My words are cut off when I feel something pressed against my lips for a brief moment. Before I really have the chance to register the sensation, Max pulls away. Her blush has intensified, but there is a glint of mischief in her eyes too. It's my turn to feel my cheeks heat up, which causes Max to mirror my smirk from earlier as she places a hand on my now pink cheek and gazes deeply into my eyes. I'm speechless for once, which is quite a feat for anyone to achieve.

 _The only other person who has ever managed it is Rachel…_

I hear someone laugh from behind and turn to see Helen, "Ah, young love. It always warms my heart to see," Max looks down shyly at her hands resting in her lap once she realizes we've been caught and I rub the back of my neck nervously, feeling my cheeks burn. I had been so caught up in the moment that I forgot there were other people here. She offers up a warm smile, "Please, don't stop on my account."

"I'm not complaining," Warren adds teasingly as he places Helen's drink down on the counter, which earns him a death glare from me. He holds up his hands defensively and chuckles, "Hey, I'm joking. It's nice to see the badass rebel Officer Price with her guard down and acting all sickeningly cute. Actually, I'm a bit scared if I'm going to be honest."

"You take that back, Warren or I will so hit you," I playfully threaten, "There is nothing cute about me. I am 100% punk rock."

Max lightly squeezes my hand, giving me a look that says "I beg to differ."

"Oh not _you_ too," I sigh dramatically as I squeeze her hand back, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Helen's smile widens as she sips at her drink and I quickly change the subject, "So Helen, are you here on your own?"

Her expression becomes wistful, "Ah yes. I am indeed. In fact, that was part of the reason I wanted to stay in the wishing room."

Unable to push back the curiosity, I ask, "What's your wish?"

She offers me a coy smile and waggles her finger at me, "Now, now Ms. Price. You shall have to get me much drunker if you wish to tease my past out of me."

 _I guess she doesn't want to talk about it. Fair enough. We all have our secrets._

"That's a shame, I bet you've lived a really exciting life," I say, trying to coax the information out of her, "Maybe I really should get you another drink."

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to that idea," she agrees, "Another drink might just loosen my lips a little."

Interested in finding out her story, I order another drink for her, as well as another one for myself and Max. She thanks me for it and then starts to talk, "This isn't the first time I have been to this place, in fact this is my second visit. At the time of my first, I was working in Las Vegas as a magician if you will believe that."

My eyebrows shoot up a bit in surprise at the new information, "A magician, huh? That is impressive."

She looks down at a watch on her wrist, "Oh my, is that the time. I must take my leave I'm afraid," she turns to Warren, "Would you be so kind as to help me back to my room?"

"Yeah, sure," Warren says as he walks around to the front of the bar. Before he leaves, he gives us a smug grin, "Don't take advantage of the empty bar. I will know."

"Don't worry, Warren. We'll be good," I promise as he leaves with Helen holding onto his arm.

I take a healthy sip of my drink before turning back to Max and gently playing with her hand, "So, now that there are no interruptions… want to pick up where we left off?"

She flashes me a shy smile before pressing her lips against mine once more. I place my free hand on her cheek, shuffling on the bar stool to get closer to her. The kiss is so tender that it almost makes my heart melt. It is then that I hear the door open and a disgusted sigh echo around the small room, "Get a room."

I break apart from Max and look over near the door to find Victoria stood there with a disapproving sneer.

"What, you jealous?" I lightly tease.

"Hardly," she scoffs, "Where is that useless oaf, Warren? I was told he was tending the bar."

"He went out for a bit. He'll be back soon," I reply as I gently bump Max's leg with my foot.

Victoria sighs exasperatedly, "Well, I suppose there is no point staying here then," with that, she storms off out of the room.

"Jeez, what's her problem?" I mumble as I finish off my drink. Max shrugs, then plants a kiss on my cheek which brings a smile to my face.

The door opens again and Warren walks back in, "Ah, glad to see that the bar is still standing."

"Have a little faith, Warren," I chuckle as I push my now empty glass away, "I don't know about Max, but I think I'm done for now," I glance over to Max, who nods in agreement.

"Well, the bar is open if you want to come back," Warren mentions as we stand up to leave, "Don't be a stranger."

We wave him off as we leave before heading on back upstairs. I can't help but still feel curious about Helen's story, "Max, I just want to stop off somewhere before I head on back to my room. I won't be a minute."

She nods and returns back to my room as I head on over to Helen's room. I knock confidently on it and wait for her to answer the door. After a few seconds, the door opens to reveal Helen, "Ah, Ms. Price. What can I do for you?"

I clear my throat, "I was wondering if you could tell me more about your past. We kind of got cut short last time."

"Still curious? Ok then, Ms. Price. Since you are so determined to find out, I will tell you," she steps aside to let me in and motioned for me to take a seat, "I suppose I didn't tell you about my wish, did I? Well, when I first visited this hotel, I was with someone very special to me," her expression turns sad then, "Someone I hurt so terribly by abandoning them. It's something I regret every day."

"Who is this person?" I prompt. It seems that Helen has been holding this in for some time and probably wants to get off her chest.

She regards me with a conflicted expression before answering, "My son, Alan Parker."

 _Wait… wasn't the name on that pen Warren found earlier engraved with the name Alan? It can't just be a coincidence. That means…_

I stand up abruptly, "Hold on just a minute. I'll be right back."

I leave the room quickly and make my way over to Jefferson's room, banging on the door as loud as I can. I hear shuffling from the other side of the door and it swings open, revealing the man I had hoped to be avoiding from now on. When he sees me, his eyebrow raises curiously, "I didn't expect to see you again, Ms. Price."

"The feeling is mutual," I curtly reply, "I need that pen. Now."

"You need… my pen?" he asks confusedly.

I grit my teeth and hold out my hand impatiently, "I don't have time for questions, just give it to me."

After a moment, he reluctantly turns back and grabs the pen from the side as he grumbles, "There. Why do you-?"

Before he has a chance to finish his sentence, I stride off and leave him without answering any of his questions. I return to Helen's room and show her the pen, her eyes widening as she looks it over, "This is… my son's pen. I gave it to him when I met up with him here a year ago. Why is it here?"

"One of the guests dropped it. A friend of your son's, or at least he was supposed to be. He stole your son's pictures and made his big breakthrough in photography using them," I summarize, noticing Helen's expression turning more melancholic by the moment.

"Oh, that is…" she sighs deeply, "My son told me that he was so close to achieving his dream to become a photographer when we met here for the first time in years," she goes quiet for a moment before continuing, "When I gave birth to Alan, I had to stop working as a magician in Las Vegas. In the end, the pull of show business was too much to resist and I abandoned him and my husband to return to the stage," her brow furrows slightly, "I became famous, but it felt empty. My son came to one of my shows two years ago and that is how we reunited," a small fond smile forms on her face, "He forgave me and we promised to meet up at Hotel Dusk, that was last year. I gave him that pen when we met up here," her shoulders slump and her eyes flicker with regret," we made no further arrangements after that. I suppose I'm here hoping that he will return. This is the only place that connects us after all."

I hand the pen her way, "Well, maybe one day you can return this to him."

She glances down at the pen before taking it, a glimmer of determination entering her cloudy blue eyes, "Maybe I will."

"I think I have taken up enough of your time," I add as I stand up and walk over to the door, "I hope you manage to find him."

"So do I," she whispers as I leave the room and continue down the corridor to Room 219.

 _So, Alan is Helen's son, the same Alan whose work was stolen by Jefferson, and he skipped town because of that betrayal. There sure are a lot of missing people around here._

I push on the door to my room, seeing Max in her usual spot on the bed. She lifts her head when she hears me come in and flashes a toothy grin my way. I can't help but return it as I flop down on the edge of the beside her, "There really are just too many mysteries to solve around here, huh?"

Max leans over and places a kiss to my neck, pulling me out of the millions of unresolved thoughts reverberating in my mind, "You know what, I think I might need another drink… or ten," my lip quirks upwards into a lop-sided grin as I wrap my arm around her shoulder, "but first I need to have a quick chill out with the gorgeous girl sitting next to me."

She obliges, resting her head on my shoulder and sighing contently as well as placing a hand over mine on the bed, our fingers interlocking. I can almost feel the tension leaving my shoulder with her soothing presence. There is still so much about her I don't know, so much mystery revolving around her. If I keep at it, dig deep enough then I'll have to find something sooner or later.

 _I have to for both my sake and hers._

* * *

 **I think there are going to be another three chapters or so for this story left. Take care out there and see you next time.**


	10. By Blood or Choice

**Hey guys, I'm back with the fic finally. Here's the next chapter.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine: By Blood or Choice**

 **10:00 – 11:00 P.M.**

After a few moments of just sitting there in silence with Max, I slowly untangle myself from her. As much as I would love to spend hours remaining like this, there is work to be done and mysteries to solve. I stand up, stretch my arms above my head, hearing a soft clicking as I do, and roll my shoulders before turning back to Max with my hand outstretched, "Let's bounce."

Max offers up a wide grin as she accepts my hand. I gently pull her up off the bed and we make our way to my door. We carry on down the hallway to the stairwell leading to the central hallway on the first floor, then entered through the double doors on the right about halfway down to access the restaurant hallway. At the end of this hallway, we go through the door leading into the bar.

As we take a seat on two of the wooden stools at the currently empty bar counter, Warren turns to us with a charming smile, or at least what he considers to be charming anyway, "I knew you two would be back. Can't get enough of me, huh?"

I roll my eyes at him playfully, "You wish. I'm just here for the booze."

"I figured you'd say that. Have to say I was hoping for a bit of friendliness," he shakes his head in an over-exaggeratedly melodramatic manner, "Guess I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up," he then turns to Max with a grin, "You're happy to see me, right?"

I shake my head at his words, "Oh god Warren, stop hassling Max already."

He holds up his hands resignedly, "Hey, no need to go all alpha male on my ass."

I reach over and push his shoulder, "Well, someone has to. You have to admit; you are damn persistent."

He manages to steady himself using the counter, "Not so much after you broke my nose that time," he reaches up instinctively to rub his nose, "I can still feel it you know."

I shrug nonchalantly, "It taught you a valuable lesson."

"Yeah, don't mess with Chloe Price or any other chick who looks like she could deck you," he mentions in a cheeky tone and after a stern look from me he adds as a grumbled afterthought, "and to not be a total stalkery creep."

"That's better," I respond with a smug smirk, "I wouldn't want to have to knock more sense into you."

"Me neither. Anyway let's hook you guys up with some drinks," Warren turns back and gets preparing a surprise concoction for me and a soda for Max. Once mixed up, he places them down on the table in front of us with a gentle clink, "I call this little number 'The Dusk'. You won't forget it in a hurry."

I pull the glass towards me, taking a healthy sip of the mystery cocktail, my eyes widening a fraction as the taste of gin and vermouth linger on my lips. The only kiss I have known in months… well until very recently anyway. I use this opportunity to sneak a glance at Max, who is happily sipping her soda through a straw. It's then that I hear Rachel's voice in my mind.

* * *

" _ **Chloe, when this case wraps up, we need to have a chat. There's something I need to talk to you about. Can you make the time?"**_

* * *

I let out a small sigh as I recall her last words to me before she went AWOL. We never had the chance to have that chat and I often wonder what she was going to tell me. I shake my head, trying to prevent myself from wallowing in self-pity anymore, "That's just what I needed, Warren. Really hit the spot."

I glance back over to Max, whose brow is now furrowed in concern. Before I have the chance to say anything to calm her fears Warren pipes up, "What's up? You look run down."

"Just… thinking too much," I mumble as I swirl the glass in my hand, watching as the pale liquid spins around and the ice clinks against the side.

Warren nods sympathetically as he puts a bottle back on the shelf behind him, "Sounds to me like you need to get more booze down you."

I offer up a small smile, "Maybe. If you keep making them like this, then I'm more than happy to have them all."

He responds with a wide toothy grin, "Glad to hear. I told you, this is the one job in this dump I take seriously," his expression becomes more uncertain and vulnerable now, "Don't laugh, but I've always wanted a place like this of my own. You're kind of to blame for that."

I have to admit, I am shocked to hear this, "Wait, what?"

He scratches at his head as he clarifies, "It was that damn story you told me back in Arcadia."

I have no recollection of this, then again I have tried to block out a lot of what happened in Arcadia, "Story?"

Warren nods before stroking his chin, "Yeah, it must have been about the third time you busted me. We were in one of those dingy interview rooms," a fond glint forms in his eyes and a distant smile tugs at the corner of his lips, "I can still hear you, 'You dream of being a thief as a kid, Warren? This your dream job? I'm sure there's something else you wanted, right? Fireman? Doctor? Rock Star?' I was staring up at the ceiling waiting for the good cop lecture to end, but then you got this really serious look in your eyes and you made up that story that got my ass in gear."

I run through every memory I can recall about Arcadia, yet still can't figure out what he is talking about, "I don't remember making up a story."

He pauses for a moment while he gathers his thoughts, "You started talking about your old man."

My eyebrows raise a fraction and my heart drops, "I… told you about my dad?"

"Damn right," Warren confirms before launching into more detail, "You told me he was some kind of genius safecracker. You were fourteen and he decides to give it up, spend more time with his family. He takes one last job to tide you guys over and he gets bumped off," he shakes his head with a sigh, "Even though I knew you were pulling my leg, I had a tear or two in my eyes," he shifts his weight over to his right side before continuing, "You told me your dad didn't want to be a thief, he wanted to be a photographer. Then you leaned in real close, voice barely a whisper and said, 'Don't make the same mistake he did. Don't live a lie.' Damn, I even get chills now thinking about it."

I take a deep breath and swallow hard, "Warren… that wasn't made up."

Warren's eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, "Wait… you're saying it's true?"

I take a sip from my drink before affirming, "Yeah, every word."

He just stares at me silently for a few seconds, his eyes searching mine to make sure I'm not messing with him, "Oh man, what a trip. I think _I_ need a drink after that. Oh yeah, before I forget."

I tilt my head to the side slightly with an amused grin, "Oh, this should be good."

Warren gets this really determined expression on his face, "I challenge you to a game of bowling."

"Where the hell did that come from?" I ask curiously, interested to hear the reasoning.

"I've been really into bowling recently, using the hallway outside my room to practice," he mentions casually, his mouth quirking into a confident smirk, "I have to say, I'm pretty good at it and I figured you might enjoy getting your ass served to you," he turns to Max momentarily, "Max, you can come play too if you like, the more the merrier," after she offers up a small nod, he glances back over to me with a daring look, "So, you up for the challenge?"

Not one to turn down a challenge, I accept his invitation, "When and where?"

"Meet back here at eleven," he arranges with a confident tone, "You'd better prepare to get that pride of yours crushed into the ground under my shoe."

"Fighting talk, I like it. It'll make it all the better when I beat you hands down," I drain the remained of my drink and shove a twenty on the counter to cover this round of drinks as well as a modest tip, "We'll be back then."

Warren waves us off as we exit the bar, both of us looking forward to what the night has in store for us. We stop abruptly on seeing a familiar young girl in the hallway, Melissa. Max and I exchange questioning glances before approaching her.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, wondering why she would be hanging around here of all places.

Melissa scuffs her shoe along the carpet, "Looking for my dad."

"Again?" I sigh deeply, "He is useless. Well, he isn't in the bar right now."

Melissa's head tilts to the side curiously, "Bar? Dad's been in places like that a lot since mom left," her expression becomes troubled on saying this and her voice mumbled, "He always smells funny and talks weird after. He cries a lot too."

Max takes a step forward then, crouching down and wrapping her arms tightly around Melissa, who immediately returns the hug and buries her head into Max's shoulder. I know how she feels, lost and angry. After a few moments, Max pulls away with a reassuring smile before standing back up again.

"Look, we'll keep an eye out for your dad, ok? So just sit tight," I promise in a soft tone.

Melissa, while still looking miserable, seems to be a bit happier than before, "Ok," with that, she turns back and makes her way out of the hallway.

"That kid's been through a lot, huh?" another voice mentions from behind Max and I. We turn to see Joyce stood by the door leading into the kitchen, her blue eyes flickering with sadness.

I glance over to the double doors leading into the central hallway where Melissa exited moments ago, "I just wish there was something I could do to cheer that kid up."

Joyce's face crumples up slightly in thought, "Maybe there is," both Max and I focus our attention on her, eager to hear what she is going to propose, "I know it's a little early being October and all, but kids get all hyped up over Christmas. There's a tree in the storage room at the back, the room next to mine. Maybe you could decorate that up, take her mind off things."

I ponder over this suggestion for a few second, "That's not a bad idea actually. We should probably sort out some kind of present if we're going all out… I doubt she's had much since her mom left. What the hell can we get?"

It is then that Max begins tugging at my sleeve and gently leading out into the lobby over to the vending machines. She moves us round to the right hand side, pointing out a messy note. I scan the note with curiosity.

 **Find all nine numbers hidden around the hotel, add and subtract them accordingly and enter in the answer to get a special prize, a limited edition hawt dog man plushie.**

I grin at the note, "Good find, Max. I doubt anyone's bothered to do that in this dump. It's worth a shot," we spent the next twenty minutes or so searching the hotel for the hidden numbers written on pieces of card stuck in obscure places. Once we've found them all, we make our way back the vending machine, shove a quarter into it and punched in the answer. A soft whirring fills the air and a light thud indicates that something has fallen into the machine tray. I crouch down and take it out, finding that it is a hawt dog man plushie.

I turn the plushie over in my hand, before handing it over to Max for safe keeping, "Perfect, just like on her puzzle."

I hold my hand up, with Max instinctively high fiving it, having to stand on her tip-toes to reach which I find kind of cute really. After acquiring the gift, we take the door next to the vending machine, the corridor of which leads to the main office, David and Joyce's room, the back set of stairs heading up to the second floor and the storage room Joyce talked about. We walk past the door to the stairs, turning left until we hit the end and enter into the storage room door on the right hand side. The first thing I notice is the mountain of cardboard boxes piled almost up to the ceiling.

"Great, a treasure hunt," I mutter under my breath as Max and I begin to move aside the boxes until we locate the box for the Christmas tree and the one with the decorations inside too. Together, we unbox the tree and get it set up.

Just as we finish up, the door behind us opens with a loud creak. We turn back to see Melissa, who makes her way over to us, "Joyce told me you guys would be in here and that I should go meet y-," when her eyes fall on the tree, they light up significantly and she forgets her initial train of thought, "Oh, a Christmas tree."

Max and I step aside so she can get a better look, "Yeah, it's a bit early, but we can decorate it if you want."

"Can we?" she asks with a child-like excitement in her eyes.

I motion towards the box with my hand, "Go nuts. All the decorations are in that box there."

Melissa stared at the box before glancing back up at Max and me, "Are you gonna help?"

"If you want us to," with a firm nod from Melissa, the three of us begin to decorate the artificial tree, which incidentally is around the same height as Max, positioned at the back of the room. Max and I take the higher branches while Melissa decorates everything she can reach. Soon, there is only the star left to put on top. Melissa takes it in her hand and stares up at the top of the tree, obviously trying to work out how to reach it.

I shake my head and chuckle, "Need a hand? Let me lift you up so you can get it."

Melissa nods and I come to stand behind her. I take hold of her waist and lift her up so that she is in line with the top of the tree, something that seems to amuse her greatly given the squeal of delight as she leaves the floor. She carefully places the golden star on the top of the tree and I set her back down on the floor again. She stares up at the tree in awe as a wide grin forms on her face, "It's so pretty."

Her smile is contagious, with both Max and myself beaming at her happy expression, "That's not all," I announce which causes her to spin round. Max takes her cue and reaches into her bag, taking out the six inch plushie from it. If I thought Melissa was smiling before, that is nothing compared to now as Max hands the toy over.

Melissa looks from Max to me, then launches herself at us, her arms encircling our waists, "Thank you."

I ruffle her hair, "No problem, squirt."

After a few moments, I feel the grip on me loosen and a faint snoring. It appears that Melissa has fallen asleep from all the excitement. I exchange an amused glance with Max, who smiles warmly at me. With a bit of maneuvering, I manage to pick her up without waking her. In her sleep dazed state, she snuggles up closer to me as Max and I take her out the storage room and use the stairs to carry her up to the upper floor. Once outside her room, Max knocks but receives no reply. I shift Melissa's weight in my arms as Max cautiously pushes on the door to find it unlocked. We enter the room and I gently rest her on one of the beds in the room. Max then wraps her up in the blanket, placing the toy in her arms once more and we exit the room.

The second Max closes the door behind us, anger pulses through my body just thinking about how lonely Melissa is, "I'm gonna find that guy and give him a piece of my mind," I growl through gritted teeth. Max places a hand on mine, her eyes pleading with me to remain calm. I take a deep breath, "Sorry I'm just angry at him for leaving her all alone like this."

Max nods sympathetically, her blue eyes melancholic and distant. She's alone too, so knows how Melissa must be feeling to an extent. I gently squeeze her hand before we make our way downstairs to look for Kevin. We don't have to wait long to find him as he's standing in the lobby with his back to us.

"Hey," I call out in the calmest tone I can muster. He slowly turns, nearly falling over in the process. On seeing us, he offers up a huge drunken grin, "Oh, hey there! How are you doing? Isha lovely night, isn't it?!" he laughs raucously, very clearly off his head drunk, his words slurred indicating that he must have consumed an impressive amount of alcohol.

"I assume you've been to the bar then?" I ask through gritted teeth as I grip on tighter to Max. I've had one too many a bad experience with drunk people in my career and while I doubt Kevin would start anything in the lobby, I don't want to risk it. Max seems thankful for the extra support, shifting closer to me with her eyes pinned to Kevin.

"I have. Yesh, ma'am," he hiccups loudly, seeming almost shocked by the noise.

I get ready to tear into him, "Well, I'm glad to see you're having a good time at least. Not like Melissa."

His expression sobers up a fraction, "What about Melissa?"

I clench my free fist to suppress the overwhelming urge to smack him, "Oh, I'm sure it's nothing you would care about. She was looking for you."

Kevin scoffs at my claim, "Yer a liar, Miss Price. A LIAR!" his volume control is non-existent by this point as he sways from side to side in a drunken stupor.

"A liar?" I ask curiously.

"Thassh right! My liddle girl… She… HATESH me!" he mutters before letting out an undignified belch, "She'd never look fer me. Thass why I know yer lyin'…"

I shake my head at him, "Go to your room and ask her, if you can make it that far."

His face scrunches up, "Mind yer own business! Whadda YOU know? …NUSHING! Thash what! Get outta my life! Leave me alone!" he shouts before stumbling off towards the front desk, nearly falling over a few times as he goes.

 _You don't get off that lightly, no way in hell._

I follow after him, with Max hot on my heels, and stand in front of him so he can't escape, "Hey, I'm talking to you."

He groans, "Don't… don't want company. Leave me alone… ugh…" he grabs at his head and closes his eyes, "Shouldn't have drunk sho mush…"

"Who were you drinking with?"

"Iss nonna yer… BUSINESS!" he grumbles, jabbing a finger in my direction and almost falling over from the motion. Realizing that I am not going to get anything out of him like this and only increasing the risk of him lashing out in this drunken state, I offer up a shrug to Max as we make our way back into the lobby.

 _Maybe we can ask Warren who he was drinking with…_

"Max, we need to stop by the bar again," I announce. She seems to be thinking over my reasoning, then something clicks in her eyes and she nods. Without delay, we head on back to the bar, surprised to see Victoria just leaving. She basically blanks us, strutting back to her room. Warren watches her leave with a sigh and I roll my eyes at him, "Working your charm on the ladies again I see?"

He breaks out of his trance with a shy grin, "I'm just here to make sure she has a good time at the bar."

"Uh-huh, sure. I might believe that if you pick your jaw up off the floor," I wryly mention, "Anyway, back to more important things…"

"Hey," he interrupts firmly, "Chicks are an important topic man."

"Of course you'd say that. I'm just surprised to not see you with a black eye," I chuckle heartily before focusing on the task at hand, "Anyway, who was Kevin drinking with earlier?"

He points to the door, "Victoria actually. Strange combo, huh? They were talking about some Gallery May in Santa Monica I think, it was hard to tell with Kevin slurring away…" he clears his throat, "not that I, a respectable bartender, would divulge that information because I totally wasn't listening in or anything."

I feel Max tense beside me and look over to her, "What's up?"

She motions for me to hand over my notebook, which I do, and scribbles away before handing it back over.

 **I remember that name, Gallery May. I don't know why, but the name is really familiar.**

I stare at Max's loopy handwriting, my mind racing at a million miles an hour. If Max knows about Gallery May, then it could be crucial to finding out who she really is.

 _I guess it's time to go talk to Victoria then, great._

"Thanks, Warren. We'll swing by later for that bowling competition," I remark as we make our way out of the bar and back up to the second floor. We head on down to Victoria's room and I knock loudly.

After a few seconds, the door opens revealing Victoria. The moment she notices us, a sneer of disapproval appears, "What do you want?"

"Just wondering what you were doing with Kevin at the bar. You don't seem to be the most compatible of people," I observe. It's true, Kevin and Victoria really don't look like they should get on in any way, shape or form.

Her lip curls in disapproval at my invasiveness, "While that is hardly any of your business, he just happened to be there and we got talking."

I decide to go out on a limb and use the eavesdropped knowledge I acquired from Warren earlier to try and drag some information out of Victoria, "About Gallery May?"

Victoria seems amazed that I know of the place at all, her eyes widening slightly in fleeting shock, "Yes, if you must know. I just mentioned it on passing and he said he knew of it," she quickly manages to cover up the surprise with her usual look of disdain, "If you've quite finished with mundane questions," her eyes soften a fraction as she continues in a hushed tone, "I have a favor to ask of you. There is no-one else I can really turn to."

This cry for help piques my interest, "Really?"

"Just… come in will you?" she snaps in irritation, stepping aside to let us in. After exchanging a quick glance with Max, who appears to be just as confused as I am, we head on into Victoria's room. The second we step inside, she begins to tentatively explain her situation, "I'll get to the point. When I returned to my room I noticed something… strange," she points over to her suitcase on the side, "It was subtle, but my suitcase had been moved. Someone has been in here without my permission."

 _Sounds familiar._

Max offers me a knowing look as I ask, "Was anything stolen?"

"Yes…" she begins to say, but it appears that she is stopping herself from explaining further.

"Have you tried the front desk? I hear David has a lot of experience with thefts," I mention sounding wry. Nothing would make David happier than having yet another lengthy investigation that could lead to police involvement… except literally anything.

"I… haven't," Victoria hesitantly admits, "It's complicated and I don't want there to be a lot of questions. Besides, nobody cares unless it's money," she adds as an afterthought.

 _Way to make it sound shady as hell. Then again, those were always the cases I craved._

I lightly tap my foot on the floor, "So what did they take?"

Victoria glances down at her feet before mumbling, "I… can't say."

I can't help but smirk at her resistance, "Well I can't help if you don't tell me."

She looks up at me with hope filling her eyes, "So you will help me?"

I shrug non-committedly, "Depends on how cooperative you are."

Victoria appears to be thinking things over, various different emotions cycling across her face before settling on resignation, "A small envelope was taken."

Envelopes always proved to be interesting items and I had seen all sorts of things being shoved into them in my time with the Force. It sure as hell didn't narrow it down much, "What's in the envelope?"

"I can't tell you," Victoria echoed her earlier tune, something that could be considered a catchphrase for her given the amount of times she'd said it during this conversation, "I was sworn to secrecy. I made a promise to the person who gave it to me and before you ask, it was a… friend named Grace. That was your next question, right? Her name will be on the envelope."

 _Grace, huh?_

"What kind of friend?"

Victoria's brow furrows in irritation, "Just a friend. Is that so hard to get through your thick skull?"

"I wouldn't be insulting the person I want to help me," I cheekily mention, enjoying every second I have power over her.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself, "Sorry, it is really important I get it back and soon."

I glance over to Max, who nods at me encouragingly. She obviously wants me to help Victoria, "Ok fine, I'll help."

"Hmm… well that isn't what I was expecting," she manages a small appreciative smile, "but I'm glad to hear it."

Once we had agreed to help Victoria, we left her room only to bump into Kevin, who was stood just a few feet from Victoria's door, "What are you doing here?" I ask in an accusatory tone.

"Uh… nothing…" he mumbles, looking guilty as hell.

I let it slide, not really interested in what he's doing here beyond what information he can give to aid my search, "Doesn't matter. I have questions."

Kevin shakes his head firmly, still very obviously drunk although he's calmed down a bit from earlier, "Not… don't want to talk."

My teeth grit at his reluctance, "I don't give a damn what you want to be honest. I heard you were chugging them back with Victoria. You know her?"

"N-no. We just met today at the bar. Not that it matters. I can… talk to who I want," he stumbles over his words inarticulately, clearly unable to hold his liquor.

 _And I thought I was bad…_

"Sure, whatever you say," I dismissively wave away his defenses, "I need to ask you about Gallery May."

His eyes narrow suspiciously at me, as if he thinks I'm trying to trick him or something "W-why?"

"I've got my reasons, important reasons," I remain just as elusive as he is being with me. It's not like he'd probably remember anything I tell him in this state anyway, "How do you know about the Gallery?"

He goes quiet for a moment before weakly replying, "My… my wife used to work there. I'm… done with this… going back to my room…" he glances over to the central hallway with an unfocused stare.

"Not so fast," I grab onto his wrist to stop him from leaving, which he tries to unsuccessfully shake off.

"No… we're done… I don't… know anything," he mutters under his breath in protest.

"I think you know a lot more than you're letting on," I prompt, knowing that this comment will either make or break the discussion.

His face darkens a fraction at my statement, "How… DARE you. We're done! DONE! My problems are MINE! NOT yours… not yours…"

I let go of his wrist now, "Look, I have no interest in your personal life, but you know things that I have to find out. The sooner you tell me, the sooner I'll be off your back."

He seems to be thinking this over for a moment, before sighing in defeat, "What…. What do you want to know?"

"Let's talk about Victoria," I press, curious to find out what the deal with her is.

He nods solemnly, "She… said she knew Grace… Melissa's mother and my… my wife. Victoria mentioned Gallery May and then… told me she knew Grace and…" he lets out a deep sigh before going off on a slight tangent, "It's my fault she left… all my fault…"

Feeling that he is extremely close to spilling everything, I hammer the last nail in the coffin, "How is it your fault?"

He steadies himself before telling Max and I the whole sordid story in a surprisingly sobered up tone, "A few months ago I lost a patient on the operating table and got sued for it," I remember Melissa telling me that her dad was a surgeon earlier, "They wanted so much money and… the patient's family won the case. My medical insurance wouldn't cover it all, so I was left to pick up the overwhelming excess," he closes his eyes momentarily, probably reliving that difficult time, "I tried to divorce Grace… so her and Melissa wouldn't get involved in my debt, but she refused. One day, she just turned up with the money to pay for the case. It was so much money. I kept asking her where she got it from, but she wouldn't tell me. We fought and argued until…" he swallows hard before saying the next part, "she had enough of my questions and left."

There was still a missing link to all this, "Why come here of all places?"

Kevin does his best to meet my eyes with a focused stare, even though he is unsuccessful, "Brochure… I found a brochure for this place in her purse after she left. So I came here to search for clues, but… I couldn't find a damn thing. I'm a failure…" his voice trails off into silence.

I take this opportunity to look at Max who is stood beside me right now. She is giving Kevin a conflicted look, one that is both sympathetic but also slightly angry at the whole situation. I feel very much the same, understanding that he's been through a lot and feeling sorry for him, however annoyed at how he has inadvertently caused Melissa to suffer though foolish actions. While nobody's perfect, there are better ways to handle certain situations, especially when kids are involved.

After letting him wallow in self-pity for a few seconds, I speak up again, "I won't argue there, but you can pull through this. You have Melissa relying on you. No matter what you think, she does care about you and loves you. You're the only family she has now and visa-versa. Don't waste that time with her," I finish of my mini-speech, hoping that at least something will get through to him.

"I… you're right. I… need to get back to my room and think a few things over…" with that, he stumbles back towards his room.

I run my fingers through my hair, sighing deeply as we watch him open the door and disappear behind it, "Let's hope that he actually takes my advice," I mumble, really praying for some change between Melissa and her dad.

I feel something enclose around the fingers of my left hand which dangles limply by my side, looking down to find Max's hand firmly wedged in mine. She looks up at me with a look that makes my heart hurt, one that is happy at the resolution but tinged with melancholy. Families are important, whether tied by blood or choice. That was something that was reinforced with every single case I worked on in Arcadia, and continues to be even to this day with moments like these.

* * *

 **Have an amazing day, keep yourself safe out there and see you next time.**


	11. A Faint Memory

**Hey guys, here is the penultimate chapter to this fic.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten: A Faint Memory**

 **11:00 – 0:00**

I glance down at my phone, seeing that it's now eleven and so time to go take Warren up on his challenge.

 _Better update Kate and Frank first._

"Max, I just need to make a call, then we'll go," she nods and leans against the wall as I dial the familiar number. I tap my foot lightly as it rings and soon hear Kate's cheery tone, **"Red Crown, Kate speaking."**

"I hope Frank is paying you extra for working the graveyard shift."

" **It's not like I can go home when you still need me to look things up,"** she points out.

"Oh, worried huh?"

This elicits a soft laugh from Kate, **"Maybe. So, have you found any clues yet?"**

"I'm getting there slowly," the disconnected network of clues materializes in my mind, still containing a worrying amount of gaps, "Things just seem to keep getting more complicated."

" **You're just one big puzzle after another, but I guess that's what makes you so charming,"** Kate comments in an amused tone.

"The ladies always love some mystery," I smirk before crossing my eyes and sticking my tongue out at Max. She shakes her head and returns my dorky face.

I can imagine Kate rolling her eyes good-naturedly at me now, **"Well, you are mystery central. I suppose it must be hard having everyone after you, huh?"**

"You bet," I cheekily add before getting back on track, "Anyway, is Frank in?"

" **He sure is,"** I hear shuffling as the phone is passed over.

" **Price,"** he greets me with his usual level of affection… literally nothing.

Since Frank used to be a detective too, he is the perfect person to ask to dig up information, "I need you to run a name, Gallery May in Santa Monica. The more information you can dig up on it the better, especially any major people associated with it."

" **A strange request,"** he mutters, **"Then again you always did go after weird cases."**

Frank knows me better than anyone, "It's an important piece of the puzzles I've got going. I met a girl here called Max. She's wearing the same bracelet Rachel used to have. So…"

I don't need to say anything else, **"I'll let you know when I find something."**

"Thanks, Frank."

He simply grunts in acknowledgement before hanging up. A few seconds later I hear a door creak closed down the end of the hallway on the left hand side. Max and I look at each other, confirming the need for further investigation. We stride down the corridor to the end past the door leading to the back stairs and stop in front of the Utility Closet. I push on the door and we step inside.

"I'll check the right hand side of the room and you check the left, ok?" I suggest to Max, who flashes me an agreeable smile before heading on over to the left. I start from the back, checking the shelves fixed to the wall which hold various cleaning products. Max and I slowly make our way towards the door, not finding anything of note. Just when I am about to give up, something piques my interest. There is something scrunched up in the trash can tucked away in the nearest right hand corner. Letting curiosity get the better of me, I crouch down and take it out. There are two things that catch my attention, a cassette and an envelope addressed to Victoria from someone named Grace as she explained, who most likely was Melissa's mother after hearing from Kevin that Victoria knew his wife.

 _Ah-ha, this must be Victoria's mystery package. Who even uses cassettes anymore? Only retro nerds… maybe Warren can give me a hand with that._

I turn to Max, waving the cassette front of her face so she can see, "I think we need to pay Warren a visit, don't you?"she carefully takes the cassette from me, giving it a once over with faint curiosity, before nodding. My lip quirks up into a smile as I gently ruffle her hair, "Why don't you hold onto it for now? It fits your whole hipster vibe after all," I point down to the small bag hanging down at her side, "and you have a place to put it too. Can I trust you with that?" Max nods eagerly as she stashes the tape in her bag for safe keeping.

Figuring that Warren would probably still be working at the bar, we make our way downstairs. The bar is completely empty by the time we reach it, apart from Warren stood behind the counter cleaning the top with a cloth. On hearing the door creak open, he looked up from his work with a wide toothy grin, "Chloe Price! When she's not solving crimes, she's charming the ladies! Are you ready to face my fury?"

A slight smirk tugged at my lips on Warren's obvious excitement, especially knowing that I will totally thrash him, no doubt about that, "Almost, but I need your help first. Do you have a cassette player?"

Warren jabs his thumb at himself with a smug grin, "You came to the right guy. I have one in my room," his expression becomes thoughtful then as he strokes at his chin, "It sure is in demand tonight."

This knowledge piques my interest, "What do you mean?"

He leans his elbows on the bar counter before replying, "David asked if he could use it earlier. Anyway, I have to stay here and hold the fort, so feel free to go use it."

 _David huh? Wonder what he was listening to…_

"Thanks," I say as Max and I turn towards the door to leave.

"Oh, by the way," he calls from behind, causing us to halt in our tracks as he adds as an afterthought, "The rewind and fast forward buttons are busted. So, if you don't want it to chew your tape up, don't use them."

I shake my head with a small smile, "Do you own anything that isn't broken?"

He regards me with a skeptical look, "Like you can really talk. Catch you guys later."

Max offers him a shy wave as we leave the bar and head off to Warren's room, out of the restaurant hallway into the central one, turning left until we hit the bottom of the stairs, then going through the door to the left just at the bottom of the stairwell into the L-shaped hallway leading to Warren's room, which is at the end on the left. I push on the handle, finding the door unlocked and we enter inside. The room is still as messy as the first time, maybe even more so. Warren's cassette player is sat on the small wooden bedside table. Once located, Max heads on over and starts fiddling around with it, taking the cassette out of her bag and inserting the tape into the player on the A-side, hitting the start.

When some jazzy music starts playing, Max glances back over her shoulder at me with a confused look. I shrug in response, feeling just as surprised by the music as Max. There is still the B-side to check, which could hold some very interesting secrets. Maybe the A-side is a means to trick whoever got the tape into thinking that it's a regular cassette. Just before Max has the chance to stop the music and take the tape out, I grab onto her wrist gently and pull her back. She is understandably startled by the sudden action, offering up a questioning look.

It's kind of cute when she's confused, her eyes filling with uncertainty and that little wrinkle forming on her brow. I begin to clarify for her, "While Jazz really isn't my thing, I want to see that boney white ass of yours dancing."

Max's blue eyes widen a fraction, her eyebrows raising slightly in response. She seems to be considering it, her face cycling through various emotions before settling on an agreeable one. I take this as a good sign and release her wrist, beginning to move my hips and arm wildly off beat, which seems to amuse her greatly. After a moment of hesitation, she begins awkwardly moving her arms.

"That's the spirit Max. Rawk out girl!" I shout out as I stride over to her, taking hold of her hands and moving her arms around with mine. Max's smile widens as I do that, her eyes sparkling with delight at the distraction. After a few moments, the tape comes to an end and our dancing slowly dwindles down to a stop, both of us lightly panting from the sudden exertion, "Damn, have to say I'm impressed, Max. You sure have some moves," I lightly tease, which earns me a light punch on the arm and a look of mock disapproval from Max, but also a dorky grin.

Once we've caught our breath, I give Max's hands a light squeeze before making my way over to the cassette player, flip it over to the B-side and shove it in the player, pressing the start button. The first thing I notice is the background static, closely followed by broken and hushed whispers.

"… **at you're asking is… ossible! …an't work any faster than I… eady am. Ok, just… me a moment… no need for that… do it… give her back… promise..."**

 _Give her back, huh? I wonder what that's all about._

At that point, I hear the door creak behind me and turn around to see Warren enter the room. After playing the message back for him so he's all caught up and removing the cassette from the player, he gets a very puzzled expression on his face, "Well, that sounds highly suspicious."

I run my fingers through my hair tiredly as my mind races from the weird tape, "You're telling me…"

Warren tilts his head to the side slightly as he looks at the tape, turning it over in his hands, "It kind of sounds like someone bugged the room, especially given the static and muffled voices."

A light smirk tugs at the corner of my mouth on his deduction, "Maybe you aren't as stupid as you look."

"Th…" he pauses, realizing the backhanded compliment, and frowns, "Hey!"

I hold my hands up and chuckle, "I'm kidding."

"You'd better be," he pouts over-exaggeratedly before returning serious and handing the tape back over to Max, "Where'd you get this thing anyway?"

"Trash can in the Utility Closet," I explain to him.

He exhales deeply, scratching at his head, "There is some strange stuff going on around here."

"I have a feeling it's only going to get stranger," I mention, wondering just how crazy things will get before the night is over, "There was also an envelope addressed to Victoria in there too. My guess is that the cassette was in the envelope to begin with. Someone stole it from her."

"Why would she have something like this?" Warren asks curiously, more of a rhetorical question than a direct one.

I shrug, that being one of the many questions I want an answer to as well, "Only one way to find out…" after bidding Warren goodbye for now, Max and I exit the room hand in hand before making our way back down the corridor to the stairwell.

I gently swing our hands as we walk down the hallway, "Shit's getting pretty crazy, huh?" Max looks up at me with a troubled and lost expression, "I guess it must be tough for you right now. Don't worry, we'll work it all out," my reassurances seem to help perk her up a bit, still there is a slight glint of doubt in her eyes as we approach Victoria's room, the one directly opposite mine.

I take a deep breath, readying myself for the inevitable barrage of snide remarks from Victoria, before knocking confidently on the door. Victoria takes her sweet time coming over to open up and when she does, she greets us with a condescending sneer, "What do you want?"

I reach into my pocket and take out the folded up envelope so she can see, "I found your envelope."

"Hand it over then," Victoria holds out her hand expectantly. When I don't give it to her straight away, she sighs in exasperation and snatches at it.

I instinctively move it out of her way, dangling it just out of her reach, "Ah, ah, not so fast."

She scowls at me, her brow twitching in irritation, "What is it now?"

"I want to ask you a couple of questions first," I clarify, expecting some resistance to the proposed interrogation.

"I don't have to answer anything," Victoria immediately snapped, crossing her arms and turning her nose up at my request.

I shrug casually, tucking the envelope back in my pocket and taking hold of Max's hand again, "Well, you obviously don't want your envelope back then."

Just as I am about to turn away, I hear a quiet, "Damn you, Price," before feeling a hand on my wrist and I am yanked unceremoniously into the room along with Max, the door slamming behind us. I barely have time to get re-oriented again before Victoria barks, "You have five minutes, so talk."

Not wanting to waste any more time than necessary, I get straight to the point by announcing, "I listened to the tape."

Victoria's eyes widen on hearing this, "You…" her words were cut off, giving way to silence.

After a few moments, I prompt her to continue, "Why do you have something like that?"

Victoria's jaw tightens a fraction as she answers, "Grace sent it to me as you already know. She… asked me to bring it here."

"Who's Grace?"

It looks as if she might shut me off, but surprisingly she just gets this really tired and defeated look on her face, "She's… my half-sister. Not that it matters to you."

 _Well, this is a weird development. If this Grace and Melissa's mother are the same person, then…_

Feeling as if I am so close to finding out the answer I press on, "Why'd she ask you to bring it here?"

"Hell if I know," she hisses defensively.

Obviously having worn out this line of questioning for now I swiftly move onto the next, "What was the plan after you took it here."

Victoria lets out a long sigh before responding, "She told me to wait for her to contact me. If I hadn't heard from her by October, I was supposed to bring the tape here. I don't know why though."

I decide to confide my suspicion to her, it might also help her remember something, "You know, that tape is probably some kind of insurance, to blackmail someone. That's why she wanted you to bring the it here," Max nods in agreement, trying to add weight to my suggestion. She heard the shady recording too, so it's good to know that we're on the same wavelength.

 _Does this tape have something to do with the money Grace managed to gather together to pay off Kevin's court judgement? Or is it something else?_

"I don't know," Victoria admits reluctantly, "All Grace told me was that I had to bring the tape to this dump if I hadn't heard from her. I'm supposed to give it to a certain man."

"A man. Well, that narrows it down," I mutter under my breath, trying not to sound too disappointed by the lack of detail.

Victoria narrows her eyes at me, "Enough with the snide remarks. I was told to give it to 'the man who painted the angel'. I thought I might understand when I got here, but I still have no clue."

"When did you last see Grace? Where is she now?" I ask, trying to speed this process up to get to the truth.

"I don't know, okay!" Victoria snarled protectively, "I told you a thousand times already! I'm the one SEARCHING for her! I HAVE to find her," on hearing herself shout the anger slowly fades as she bites her lip and sighs deeply, "Sorry, I just… want to see her."

I wave away her apology, "Don't mention it," I decide to bite the bullet and make the connection between Grace as Victoria's half-sister and Melissa's mother to see how Victoria would react. Maybe she knows already, "So, is that why you were boozing it up with Kevin earlier? To find out what happened to Grace?"

Victoria appeared to be taken aback by this statement, "What?"

 _I guess she doesn't know about Kevin then. It has to be the same Grace though, there are too many coincidences otherwise. If this place has taught me anything, it's that coincidences are rare._

I exchange a quick glance with Max, who offers up a reassuring smile that encourages me to continue, "Kevin has a wife named Grace who's went missing after he was sued for malpractice. She bailed him out, but wouldn't tell him where she got the money from and they fought over it. Soon after, she disappeared. I have a sneaking suspicion she's the same as the Grace you're talking about."

It is then that Victoria's eyes widen in realization, "So, that little girl…"

"…is her daughter, yep. Got it in one," I confirm.

"Now I understand why she had that doll with her," Victoria mumbles more to herself than Max and me.

I recall the doll Melissa had me fix earlier, "The doll Melissa has, you recognize it?"

"Yes."

I nod thoughtfully, "That makes sense, Grace made it after all."

"I… didn't know that," Victoria quietly mumbles, "It explains why it looks so much like our dolls, the ones we had as kids. She was always such a sentimental sap. As I've already said, Grace is my half-sister. She's four years old than me."

 _I sense the truth approaching rapidly now… finally._

Her face falls slightly at this thought and she finally cracks, "Our mother had a fling with some business man on one of her trips and fell pregnant with me. When her husband's family found out they cut all ties, leaving Grace, myself and our mother to fend for ourselves. They were very powerful in the art dealing world and we were left with nothing. It was… hard. We had to keep on the move to actually survive. We stayed like this for a while… before our mother died in a plane crash. I was nine years old at the time."

I vaguely remember seeing something about that at the time on the news, I probably wouldn't have been much older than Victoria was at the time it happened.

"Grace and I got separated to hide the fact that we were related to the Chase family," she pressed on after composing herself, "I eventually got adopted, but I ran away aged fifteen and spent five years barely scraping by. When I was twenty, I found work at some run-down diner in Santa Monica and Grace suddenly came back into my life. She didn't recognize me at first, five years changes you," her tone becomes wistful as she continues, "She'd made something of her life, while I was still playing catch up. She was working as a curator at a place called Gallery May and was engaged to a doctor, who I assume must be Kevin now," I nod in confirmation before she sighs, "We promised to meet up later… but I ran away yet again."

I glance over to Max to see her listening attentively to Victoria's story, all her attention focused on the task at hand. Victoria takes a moment to gather her thoughts then speaks up again, "I decided to follow up on my dream to become an actress, jumping from city to city and taking any role that came my way. Time passed me by until a couple of months ago when Grace tracked me down. I had just been featured in some small time magazine photo shoot. She traced me through the agency and she was no longer the same hopeful girl I saw in Santa Monica," her brow furrows as she recalls her sister's state, "She looked so haggard and sad. She broke down and told me she needed money… but I couldn't help her. She needed so much, more than I had ever even seen in my life. She sobbed, apologized for asking the impossible. She told me that seeing me again gave her the courage to do what must be done… and that's the last time I ever saw her."

 _That must have been just after Kevin was sued when she was looking for the cash to pay for the charges._

Her voice wavers, "And I still don't know who I'm supposed to give that damn tape to. I just… want to see her again."

 _You and so many others…_

"Join the club. Well, you're in luck. I'm going to find this guy," I confidently declare, having a feeling that finding this guy will uncover a lot of the mysteries tied to Hotel Dusk.

"How?" she doesn't appear to be asking out of disbelief, more like hope.

"We know he's here in the hotel according to Grace anyway. That's already a good start. I'm pretty good at uncovering mysteries. Grace can't be too far away," I assert, trying to instill some hopefulness in Victoria. Everyone in this dump always looks so miserable, as if they've just given up.

"Ms. Price…"

Before she can say anything else I press on, "Then maybe I can start seeing some smiles around this place. Everyone's so damn sad that it's making me feel weird."

I turn to leave, but notice that Max isn't following straight away. She takes a tentative step towards Victoria and, after a moment's hesitation, she slowly wraps her arms around her. I have to admit, I am extremely shocked by this, not more than Victoria herself however, who doesn't really know what to do in this situation. After a few seconds, her shoulders slump and she mirrors the motion, closing her eyes and gripping onto Max tightly. It's such a weird scene to witness, the most unlikely I could think of, but Max seems to have this way of making people calm and open from what I'd seen so far. After a few seconds, Max gently disengages and flashes Victoria a warm smile before following me out of the room.

 _So, Grace is Victoria's older half-sister, as well as being Melissa's mom, and she knew a man who paints angels. Hotel Dusk and the Angel Painting have to be connected. Maybe I can figure it out… And maybe that'll tell me why Rachel came here._

"Just when I think things can't get any more complicated…" I sigh deeply, rubbing at my temples before turning back to Max, "Anyway, we have our pride to uphold now. Let's go grab Warren so we can beat his ass down in this bowling thing."

Max beams at me as we head on over to the bar to get Warren. He greets us when we reach the counter and mentions that he just has to go to his room to get the pins and balls. We go to the hallway outside Warren's room and wait for him to get set up. Once finished, he turns to us with a gleeful grin, "Ready to get your ass kicked?"

"I was about to ask you the same question," I smirk smugly.

Warren takes the first shot, hitting over six pins and then a further three on the second, "Not bad, Warren. But you'll have to do better than that."

"I have a feeling you're all talk, Officer Price," he taunts playfully as he repositions the pins and hands me the ball. I get into position and line up my shot, throwing it down the hallway with a well-practiced throw. The ball rolls across the floor, allowing my smirk to widen as I hit a strike.

I look over to Warren, who seems annoyed at my success, "Don't feel too bad, Warren. I'm sure you'll get better with practice."

He grumbles under his breath as he sets the pins back up, "Just you wait."

I hand the ball over to Max, who smiles appreciatively at me, before getting herself ready. She pulls her arm back ready to make the shot. She obviously didn't have a tight enough grip on the ball as it flies out of her hand behind her and hits into a small wooden table, knocking over the pot containing a small plant placed on it. She winces as the pot smashes to the floor.

The three of us just look at one another for a few seconds before Warren rubs his face with his hand, "Oh man… that was David's favorite plant…" he sighs deeply.

I notice something unexpected on the floor, a small rusted key. I crouch down and pick it up, giving it a once over, "Huh… interesting," Max and Warren come closer to see what I'm looking at, both of them curious about the discovery, "Looks like David is hiding something."

Just then, we hear the door to the hallway open and I thrust the key into my pocket to hide it. Warren gives me a sheepish look as Joyce walks round the corner. She takes a moment to correctly assess the situation, then places a hand on her hip, "Warren Graham, how many times have I told you to not practice that damn bowling in the hotel."

He rubs the back of his neck, "Sorry, Joyce. I just wanted to have a little fun."

"Your fun always ends up in destruction," Joyce shakes her head, "Go grab a brush and clean this mess up."

"Yes ma'am," Warren mumbles as he drags his feet across the floor. Max tugs at his sleeve, offering up an apologetic look, "Don't worry, Max. It's cool. I've broken a lot of things before now because of it," he continues on out of the hallway.

Joyce gives Max a mildly accusatory look, "From the guilt all over your face, I can assume it was you who dealt the final blow to this poor plant," she nods remorsefully, ducking her head and hiding behind me a bit, "We can just repot it and David won't even notice," Max sighs in relief on hearing this.

While Joyce is here, there is one thing I want to ask her. I use this opportunity to do so, "Oh yeah, are there any angel paintings in this hotel?" if anyone would know apart from David, someone I am not willing to ask just in case it upsets him for some reason, it'd be Joyce.

Joyce thinks over my question for a moment before shaking her head, "Nope, only apple paintings. Unless…" her brow furrows in thought.

"Yes?" I prompt, feeling a rush of anticipation as I wait on her.

"There _is_ another room in the lobby," she divulges hesitantly.

"Oh?" I vaguely recall another door in the lobby area, but hadn't paid it much mind.

Joyce nods, her voice going quiet, "Yes. I haven't been in it for a long time, in fact David closed it off. I assumed it was for repairs or something, but it's been like that for almost a year now. He's told us that we can't go in there."

"Hmm… maybe we should go investigate," I suggest thoughtfully. With the way this day has been going, I wouldn't be surprised to find the angel painting hanging on the wall in that room to be honest.

Joyce ponders over this before nodding, "Ok, I'll go grab the key and meet you in there in about ten minutes. Make sure you aren't seen. David would have a fit if he saw you hanging around there."

"Ok," I agree as Joyce heads on out of the hallway. While we're waiting around, I take the chance to give Frank and Kate a quick update, as well as checking up on whether Frank has managed to uncover anything yet.

" **Red Crown, Kate speaking."**

"Guess who?" I ask with a lop-sided smile.

A small sigh filters through from the other line, **"Chloe, that wasn't funny the first time so drop it."**

I can't help but throw in a mock salute even though Kate can't see me do it, it amuses Max though at least, "Yes ma'am. What are you still doing there?"

" **I was worried about you,"** Kate states with ease.

"Aw, ain't that sweet," I lightly tease, grateful to know that she cares.

" **Yeah, yeah, tease me why don't you?"** Kate chuckles lightly, **"You're timing is impeccable as always. Frank wants to have a chat with you."**

" **Price,"** Frank greets gruffly.

"Any luck on Gallery May?" I ask, diving straight into this.

Frank takes a deep breath before launching into his findings, **"Ryan Caulfield is the owner of Gallery May. He's supposedly really good at finding undiscovered works by famous painters. Made a good living out of it too. About a year ago, he slowly began to withdraw from the public side of the art scene. Gallery's still running, but no-one has seen him much in that time. Wanna know the really interesting thing?"**

I can tell Frank is enjoying toying with me a little, "Frank, stop being such a tease and tell me already."

After a few moments of silence, he finally puts me out of my misery, **"He has a daughter. A year younger than you actually. No prizes for guessing her name."**

My eyes widen slightly as I slowly look over at Max, who tilts her head to the side in confusion at my sudden shock. Now it makes sense why Max could remember the gallery… her father owned it. I finally manage to compose myself enough to speak, "Did you manage to find out what she looked like?"

" **There was a picture from over a year ago of Ryan and his family after he found an apparently famous painting, Angel Opening a Door,"** I recognize the name from Jefferson, the same painting Rachel took from Warren's friend, **"His daughter's around 5'5, mid-length brown hair, pale freckled skin, blue eyes and thin, at least at the time of the picture."**

The description almost matches Max perfectly, "Thanks Frank. I'll speak to you later," he provides his usual grunt as a goodbye before hanging up.

I give Max a long hard stare, hoping that the name of her father will help jog her memory, "Max… do you remember someone named Ryan, Ryan Caulfield?" a flicker of recognition enters Max's blue eyes and she nods uncertainly, "He's your dad, right?" Max furrows her brow, thinking hard over the name. She remains like this for a moment, racking her brain to make the connection, "You really can't remember much of anything, huh?"

Max shakes her head despondently, with the most heart-breaking expression. Memories make up such a fundamental part of our beings, experiences guiding our personalities and behaviors. That's why the thought of losing them is so scary.

I wrap my arms around her, placing a kiss to her forehead as I feel her hug me back, "Don't worry. I swear we will find out what happened to you, no matter how long it takes," we break apart and I reach out my hand to her, "Time to go to the room, you ready?"

Max nods and grips onto my hand tight. After flashing her a reassuring smile, we head towards the door leading out into the lobby, checking that the coast is clear as Joyce recommended before heading on out, and approach the mystery door on the back wall of the lobby. I try the door, which gives when I push on the handle, and we pile in before David notices.

Joyce is already there, sitting on the dusty couch pushed up against the left wall. When she notices us, she stands up and smiles, "Fancy seeing you two here."

I take a step forward, but am pulled back lightly. I glance back over my shoulder to see Max stood stock still, her face drained of any remaining color and her hands shake in mine. I look over to Joyce, who looks as worried as I feel, before tentatively calling out to her, "Max…"

The next moment is a slow motion blur for me. Max's blue eyes become unfocused, her grip on my hand loosens and her entire body begins to wobble and sway. Without further warning, she collapses to the floor with a soft thud right before my eyes.

* * *

 **All shall be revealed in the final chapter next time. Have an awesome day guys and see you for the conclusion.**


	12. The End of the Beginning

**This chapter will differ a bit from the original plot line and become a huge info dump at times to tie off loose ends, so prepare yourselves.**

 **Enjoy**

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven: The End of the Beginning**

 **0:00 – 2:00 A.M.**

My brain can't process what I see before me, Max passed out on the carpeted floor at my feet. It takes a moment for my mind to catch up with what my eyes are showing me, enough time for Joyce to go into full on panic mode. She rushes over to us, crouching down beside Max and gently shakes her shoulder, "Max… Max honey, wake up… come on," she sounds as if she is on the verge of tears.

Once over the initial shock, my mind goes into overdrive, "Joyce… stand back," she complies without any protest. Various snippets from my basic compulsory medical training enter my head, something I am really thankful for now. I shrug off my jacket so I can be unrestricted, quickly remove Max's bag from her shoulder and empty her pockets ready to turn her over for when I get her breathing again just in case she throws up on waking. I gently tilt Max's head back and lift her chin to make sure her airways are clear, placing my face close to her mouth to check if she's breathing, my heart racing when I don't feel anything on my cheek or see her chest moving. I reposition myself so I'm kneeling down beside her on the floor level with her chest, placing the heel of my hand towards the end of her breastbone in the center. I cover the hand already on her chest with my other, interlocking fingers. I lean over her, locking my arms in straight and begin giving compressions. After repeating 30 times, I pinch her nose and take a deep breath, sealing my lips around her mouth and blowing until her chest rises. I remove my mouth, allowing her chest to fall and repeat again.

 _Come on, Max… please…_

Just as I am about to prompt Joyce to call an ambulance if she hasn't already and start the next round of compressions, I suddenly hear coughing and spluttering from below me. I notice Max's chest begin to rise, my heart jumping as I turn her over into the recovery position. I place my hand in front of her mouth to confirm that she is in fact breathing again, sighing in relief when I feel the air movement.

I rub at my face, feeling like crying as we wait for her to come back around properly. It takes a few moments, but Max's eyes slowly flicker open and she begins to stir. The second she sits up I hug her fiercely, my voice wavering, "Don't you ever worry me like that again."

She weakly wraps her arms around me, still feeling groggy from her momentary passing out. With Joyce's help, we get her to her feet and gently place her on the couch.

"Max, honey. Take it steady," Joyce softly breathes as we get her comfortable.

Max groans lightly, some very strange noises coming from her throat, "C-Ch-Chloe," her voice comes out strangled and dry.

My eyebrows shoot up to my hairline when she finally speaks after all this time of silence, "Max…"

Max clutches at her throat, her expression strained, "Uhh… Ahh…"

Joyce puts a hand to her mouth in shock, "Oh my sweet lord, she's talking."

"I… I…" she swallows hard, obviously struggling to get her words out.

Brushing aside my surprise in favor of ensuring her wellbeing, I sit down beside her and gather her hands in mine, "Are you ok?"

Max takes a deep breath before nodding weakly, "Y-yeah."

I let out a sigh of relief now knowing she is ok, but am still freaking out over all of this, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I… remember… I… re… member. It all went dark… just like before," Max began to stumble over her broken words.

"Max, don't push yourself," Joyce mentions in a voice tinged with worry in her protective tone, "I'll go get you a glass of water," Max nods appreciatively as Joyce storms out of the room with purpose to the bathroom. Moments later, she is back with a cup of water. She hands it to Max, who eagerly chugs it down.

"Better?" Joyce asks, her face lined with concern.

Max places the cup on the coffee table in front of the couch and offers Joyce an appreciative smile, "A b-bit. Th-thanks, Joyce."

Joyce joins us on the couch on Max's other side, "Now, Max. Why don't you start explaining things to us?"

Max bites her lip, worrying it between her teeth as she explains what she can remember, "I came here… a year ago with my d-dad. He said he was… meeting up w-with an old friend. He was… always away and I… I w-wanted to spend t-time with him. We… stayed in this room," she scanned the room with a distant expression.

"It was obviously a shock to your system coming back in here, huh?" I squeeze her hand lightly to keep her concentration levels up.

Max focuses back on me and Joyce after her brief zone out, "Y-yeah. Anyway, dad went to see h-his friend and I… stayed in the room."

"What happened then?" Joyce gently prompted.

Max takes a deep breath before continuing, "D-dad was taking… a while. I was… worried. Dad t-told me to stay in the room… and lock the door… n-not that it… helped," I rub her shoulder with my hand, keeping the other holding onto her hand to provide some encouragement, "Some people… broke down the door. I t-tried to escape… but they got me and th-they drugged me. Everything… went black and wh-when I woke up next… I was in a room I didn't recognize. I… don't know how long I w-was there."

"Oh, Max… I'm sorry," Joyce sighed deeply, her expression sympathetic.

Max's voice became less broken as she told her story, "I re… remember escaping. S-someone helped me out, a… woman. She said she was an… undercover detective. While she was h-helping me out, I got hit… on the head really hard and I bl-blacked out," she reached up instinctively to touch the back of her head, "When I woke up, I w-was in… hospital and I c-couldn't remember anything. The doctors told me I'd been in a coma for a whole year and that a w-woman brought me in… claiming to be called Chloe Price."

 _Rachel… that had to be you. You saved Max from Nile…_

Max looks down at the floor, "I… ran away b-because I was scared. I w-wanted to find… my dad so, I went to the only place I could r-really remember… Hotel Dusk."

My mind works overtime trying to take in all this new information, "Man, this is such a trip."

Just then the door behind us opens and David strides in, "Joyce, I thought I told you not to come in h-" he freezes up when his eyes fall on Max, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he finally manages, "Max?"

"D-David?"

David walks over to her and pulls her into an unexpected hug, "Max… you're alive. I'm so sorry, Max. So, so sorry…"

"David?" Joyce calls out hesitantly, as puzzled as I am about all this.

"What's going on here?" I demand in a confident tone.

He breaks away from Max with the happiest expression I have seen from him, "It's… a long story."

Long stories have been my life ever since joining the Police, "I have time."

David gathers his thoughts for a moment before nodding and taking a seat on a chair opposite the couch, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, "I was investigating Nile undercover with a friend of mine just over a year ago, Ryan Caulfield aka Max's father. I got hooked up in some art fraud scheme, painted stuff under the guise of Osterzone. Ryan was supposed to 'find' the artwork and make up the specific details to fetch the highest price. Once sold, the new owner would insure it and Nile would steal it back. Once the pay-out was made from the insurance company, Nile would sell it back to the collector and make a huge profit."

"Damn, this place seems to breed detective dropouts," I wryly remark, "Thought I was the only one."

David seems surprised by my admission, "Hmm… wouldn't have you pinned down as the type. Guess it makes sense though considering how nosy you are."

"I'll take that as a compliment," I defiantly respond.

"Sure," he actually manages a chuckle at that, the tension long since gone from his body and the normal expression of anger replaced with a much more agreeable one, "anyway we were collecting evidence against them wherever we could. One day, they figured us out and… kidnapped my friend's daughter, Max here. They met us here at Hotel Dusk to apparently talk business and while we were busy, they took her. She was 23 at the time, in fact it's almost coming up to a year since she disappeared."

Joyce sits there with her mouth slightly agape as she listens to David's story unfold. She seems to have no idea that he was bearing all this on his own, not that she should unless he told her. It's not the kind of thing you can simply guess.

David steers the explanation back on track, "Anyway, they had us by the throat. Instead of offing us, they wanted me to continue painting and held Max as incentive. They said one day she'd be returned to us, but I had to pay it off by painting. I've been here, doing that for what feels like eternity," he stares at Max like she's a rare and mystical creature, which I guess is the same way I'd look at Rachel if she suddenly rocked up out of nowhere right now.

He shuffles in the chair, "Then just over a month ago I get this weird message from a woman who claimed to know who I was and my connection with Nile, went by Chloe Price too," he glances my way as he says this, "I shrugged it off at first, but she said things I had never told to anyone. She wanted to meet me here, so I agreed. I made sure that Warren and Joyce were out when she came. I thought she might try to blackmail me or something, wouldn't be surprised since it's happened before."

His expression becomes more troubled now, "Some woman visited the hotel a couple months back, threatening to expose me if I didn't paint something for her. She said she had evidence of some of my meetings with Nile and she knew I was Osterzone. If my connection with Nile had been found out and publically announced, then…" he shoots Max a troubled look, "They told me that they wouldn't hesitate to kill Max. She was their bargaining chip."

 _So… that must have been Grace, Melissa's mother, Kevin's wife and Victoria's half-sister. That would explain the cassette tape she sent Victoria, to be sent to the man who paints angels, and how she got all that money to pay for Kevin's court verdict._

I hold off on my questions to see if they will be answered in due course, not wanting to put David off from revealing everything, "I made her a painting and she left. Told me she would send the blackmail material to do whatever I wanted with once she'd sold the painting. She said to keep an eye out for a gal named Victoria coming around October, gave me a detailed description too. She'd be sending the proof through her, that I should try to keep her out of it as much as possible if I could," he shakes his head then, "That's why I… went into her room and took the package."

 _Who'd have thought I'd uncover even half of this by coming to a dump like this? Then again, it's places like this that have the darkest secrets… as all this demonstrates._

"Damn tape was all messed up anyway, couldn't really make out what was going on," David grumbled in irritation under his breath, "I feel like a fool for being so worried about it. That's why I just threw it in the trash can, because I was angry at myself. I was going to get rid of it properly later, figuring nobody would look there, but seems you beat me to it."

Now realizing that he is rambling and getting off topic, David focuses back on his tale, "Anyway, this 'Chloe Price' returned something to me… a painting," he glanced up at the apple painting hanging on the wall in the room, taking it down and pulling a small metal tool from his pocket, carefully beginning to chip away at the paint as he spoke, "that wasn't all though. She told me that she was going after Nile. After that… she just left, giving me more questions than before," it was clear to see now that underneath the layer of paint was yet another painting. He stops once about a quarter of the painting is revealed, motioning down to it, "Here she is, Angel Opening a Door… Osterzone's masterpiece… my masterpiece. It's been here ever since and nobody was any the wiser."

He places the painting down on the coffee table in front of us, Max moving the cup out of the way to make more room for him, "There was one other thing she told me, if I ever ran into another woman named Chloe Price, she gave me a very detailed description too, that I should give you a key. I've kept it hidden in a plant pot in the hallway near Warren's room for the last month, just waiting for the right time."

I take this opportunity to retrieve the key I stashed in my pocket earlier, "You mean this one?"

David stares at the key with curiosity, "Yeah… I guess it wasn't as hidden as I'd hoped. Well you have it now. No clue what it's for. She just said you'd know."

 _As cryptic as always, Rachel…_

He stands up abruptly, "Well, I guess that covers that. Have to admit, this is not how I figured my evening would end."

"I think that applies to all of us," Joyce finally speaks up.

I feel Max slump beside me, yawning away as I ruffle her hair, "I think somebody is ready for bed."

"I share Max's sentiment here," Joyce mentions as she stands up, "We've all deserved a good night's sleep."

There is still one burning question on my mind, "David…" he turns to me with interest, "That other Chloe Price… did she look ok? Like, she was getting enough sleep and stuff."

David strokes at his chin, "To be honest, she looked as if she'd seen better days, but for the most part she seemed healthy enough. There were just bags under her eyes and she could probably have done with putting on some weight."

The bags were a constant when you'd worked the shifts we had over the years, but her not eating properly was a little worrying, "Thanks…" with that, I stand up and take Max by the hand, leading her back up the stairs to my room. Max immediately flops onto the bed as I update Frank.

" **Price, found anything?" Frank's gruff voice echoes in my ear.**

"I've found out a lot, Frank. I'll tell you about it later though. I'm too tired now," I yawn, feeling my eyes struggling to remain open.

" **Fair enough,"** there is a slight pause before Frank continues, **"Oh by the way, the girl who wanted the red box and the magazine called. She settled the bill, but didn't want the items anymore."**

"So… they were just to lure me here?"

" **I'd put money on it. Get some rest for now,"** Frank hangs up, one last connection left unmade in my search now with the possibility of being solved.

 _If the person I was working for was Rachel, then the key David let me keep…_

I grab the red box I found earlier and jam the key into it, turning it with a click. Inside is a letter, that I don't hesitate to rip open and read, immediately recognizing the handwriting.

* * *

 _ **Hey, partner. I'm writing this in the hope that you are nosy enough to investigate this place. I heard that you turned in your badge and left Arcadia. I figured that was my chance, so I setting it up for you to come here, left you some clues too. I knew you'd be nosy enough to uncover the secrets of this hellhole. You're so damn stubborn. You'd never let it go. Six months ago I betrayed you. I put your finger on that trigger and made you pull it.**_

 _ **I can still hear you shouting at me, asking why on that cliff. You sounded so angry, not that I blame you. I would be too. I had little choice and I didn't want to drag you into it. Nile has to go and the only way to do that was for me to betray everyone, to walk outside the law… to disappear. So I'm on the run now. Nile wants me dead. Cops want me dead. Some life, huh?**_

 _ **At least I managed to save that girl, Max. I did one good thing among all the bad on the hunt for Nile. You may have already met her you know. She has huge ties to Hotel Dusk, or so she told me when I saved her from Nile, and I reckon that's the first place she'll go when she wakes up. I gave her my bracelet with the added nameplate so that if you ever did meet her, it'd get that detective instinct of yours flowing. Look after her for me if you meet her.**_

 _ **Stop looking for me, Chloe. Consider me dead and buried… a ghost.**_

 _ **Rachel**_

* * *

 **The Next Morning**

After the action of yesterday, I am totally wiped so spend more time than usual getting up. That and I get caught up watching Max as she sleeps, smiling as she snuggles up closer to me whenever I move even an inch. With her memories restored, she seems much happier than before, something I am really happy to see. In fact, this whole place feels like a burden has been lifted from it. Even I am feeling more at peace, although my desire to find Rachel hasn't really lessened.

I sigh deeply, feeling Max stir beside me. Her eyes slowly flutter open, those deep blue orbs piercing me as she offers up a sleepy smile, "Hey."

It's kind of weird to hear her talk now really after spending most of my time communicating through meaningful looks, hand gestures and notebooks. Still, I'm happy for her. I push aside a stray strand of her hair off her face, "Hey to you too."

We take our time waking, both reluctant to break the tranquil atmosphere that is rarely achieved nowadays. The sun filters through the window, falling on the bed and floor to light the room in a golden haze. While outside the window is essentially a wasteland, it's a nice break from the hectic chaos life has to offer.

I think over the people I have met, all the weird and wonderful people, mostly weird, each with their own bizarre stories to tell. So many different stories connected by this one hotel in the middle of nowhere… it's almost comical that a dump like this could hold so many answers… ones that have been waiting many months to be exposed.

I take a few moments to look around Room 219, the wishing room. In a way, it did grant my wish I suppose and more. While I couldn't find Rachel, I know why she left and did what she did, that she is still out there somewhere thinking of me. I won't give up until I have tracked her down one day. I just want to see her smile one more time, tell her that I don't hate her. She needs to hear that I think and I need to say those words for my own sanity as much as hers. While that part of my life remains an open chapter, at least there has been some closure for it.

After finally rousing ourselves, eating some delicious breakfast from the Two Whales courtesy of Joyce and saying our farewells to the various guests, each seeming significantly happier than when I first saw them, Max and I made our way into the lobby to the main office so I can hand my key in to David. He tells Max to give her parents his best greetings, saying that he will come visit them soon. He also suggests that we come back to Hotel Dusk sometime, never thought I'd hear him voluntarily suggesting to spend more time with me. Stranger things have happened I guess, most of them in the hotel. It's a place I will never be able to forget so long as I live, even if I tried. I wouldn't want to though.

There is a kind of weird atmosphere between Max and I as we head on out into the dusty plain. Neither of us had much time or energy to discuss what happens now with the countless mysteries. I know I for one don't want to get separated from Max if I can help it. I haven't felt this comfortable around someone since Rachel, and while we haven't known each other that long, it shouldn't matter. Life's too short to waste opportunities like this and I sure as hell ain't getting any younger, especially with all the years I've no doubt lost to stress and booze. I want to know more about her and I want her to learn more about me too.

I see my slightly rusted dirty yellow truck parked a couple of feet away, the sun blazing down on us as the wind blows sand up in the air. I stop in my tracks when I reach the front of my truck, perching myself on the hood and patting the space beside me, "Have a seat, Pete."

Max smiles at me as she takes me up on my offer, "Don't mind if I do."

I lay back with my feet dangling off the edge, staring up at the blue almost cloudless sky and rest my hands on my stomach, "So, what are you going to do now?"

Max shrugs as she joins me, "Well, I guess I should give my parents a visit. They must be worried sick."

I turn to face her with a stoic expression, not wanting to get my hopes up too much, "Then what?"

"I hadn't figured out that far ahead yet," Max shuffles to a more comfortable position, spitting out some sand that flies into her mouth, which makes me chuckle and earns me a light punch to my arm, "How about you?"

I hadn't given it much thought really, before now completely resigned to my fate of working a dead-end job and probably drinking myself away, "I might return to Arcadia for a while, visit my mom, then I was just gonna hit the open road. I've always fancied doing a road trip to Portland and beyond."

"Sounds nice," Max agrees, her arms resting beside her.

I get the urge to reach out and take her hand, one I discreetly enact upon. I begin playing with her fingers, examining her bitten nails and lightly calloused, pale and freckled skin, "You know…"

Max focuses all of her attention on me now, "Hmm…"

I feel really awkward about this, always struggling with expressing my emotions. I'll try though, harder than I ever have. If this time has taught me anything, it's that you can't hang around and wait for things to happen… you have to make them happen, "If you can't think of anything better to do then… you could come with me."

"Come with you?" Max's eyes widen slightly on this and I wonder if I've said something wrong.

 _Damnit Chloe, you're obviously coming on too strong…_

I immediately begin to backtrack and dig myself out of a hole, "I mean you don't have to or anything, but I think it could be fun."

Max turns over, placing a hand on my cheek, "I could think of worse ways to spend my time," I'm actually kind of surprised that she accepted that easily, but there is no way I'm going to try talk her out of it. She twiddles a strand of my faded blue hair around her finger before leaning in and pressing her lips on mine lightly, "In fact, there is nothing I would rather be doing.

"Sentimental nerd," I mumble shyly as I push her shoulder, nearly knocking her off the hood.

"You're going to have to do better than _that_ to get rid of me Miss Price," Max giggles as she slides off the hood, stumbling over her own feet clumsily.

I peel myself off the hood too, "Maybe I don't want to get rid of you any time soon. I've gotten used to having you around."

I hold out my hand for her, one she takes, and after glancing back at the hotel I would vote least likely to find happiness, however have been proven wrong ten-fold on that assumption, we stare out into the barren wastelands stretching out before us, ready to set out on our new journey… wherever it may take us.

* * *

 **And that's it guys. We've finally reached the end. Thanks for reading, have an awesome day and I hope to see you in another story.**


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